Santos Slide
by Dejah
Summary: Set after PLUM DIRTY. There's a new BEA in Trenton & she's caught Lester Santos' eye. Peeling away her mystery might be more than Lester bargained for. Lester HEA. Babe & Cupcake friendly of course . Some pathos. There will be smut. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE:** This story continues with Lester Santos about nine months after the end of _Plum Dirty_. Pairing will be Lester and my OFC, and yes, there will be smut. Plenty of it. And dirty, dirty jokes, because my OFC has a lot more in common with me than I would ever normally write a character, but you can get away with it in fanfiction. Don't worry, she only shares a few minor points with me, so hopefully she won't come off as Mary Sue. Stephanie and Ranger will be present and their relationship is secure, so no worries there. No clue if Diesel will drop in. Could happen, but who knows?

I'm using Google Maps to choose locations in Trenton and most places and streets I mention will be real if you want to plug them into the internet and get a view. Of course, I can't see the inside of anything, so I'll be making that up, and some locations might describe buildings that obviously aren't the reality.

Can't wait to hear what you think!

**SPOILERS:** Let's just assume that it spoils everything JE has ever written in the Plum universe, okay?

**RATING:** Language, mild violence, adult themes. This chapter is pretty tame, but don't get the wrong idea, savvy?

**CHAPTER ONE:**

I stepped out of the Guatepan Bakery onto the corner of Beatty and Genesee already reaching into my cargos for my car keys and holding a cup of coffee so hot it was burning my hand through the cup and the coffee collar. I scanned the street habitually as my foot hit the step, categorizing vehicles, noting pedestrians. It was mid-afternoon in Trenton and the streets were mostly deserted.

The sun was blazing hot for June. Thankful for my mirrored shades, I headed for the Explorer when I heard a shout. I turned, looking east down Genesee and saw a man running flat out toward me. I moved aside, my eyes sliding past him to spot a woman chasing not far behind.

"Stop!" she shouted but the guy didn't even break stride, hauling across the intersection to continue west on Genesee.

The woman had almost reached me, covering ground with long strides, her arms pumping. A group of chattering bakery customers suddenly piled out of Guatepan, blocking the sidewalk and the woman's pursuit. I saw her eyes doing a quick scan before she dodged toward me, jumped up to plant one foot high on the door of my truck and launched herself past, sliding between me and the Explorer so close I felt her leg brush against me and I fumbled my coffee, swearing as it almost spilled.

"Sorry!" the woman called without looking back, booking across the street.

Curious now, I followed. I was taking a break from surveillance, enjoying an hour of downtime before I'd be back to doing nothing. I didn't have to go far and was able to watch as the woman quickly closed the distance between her and her prey. She launched herself at the man, catching him with her shoulder in the middle of his back and riding him to the pavement.

He hit hard, and the woman had cuffs in her hand an instant later, yanking the man's arms up hard and clanking the bracelets around his wrists. He started struggling, swearing at her and she grabbed the short chain linking the cuffs, pulling up sharp so that the man's face was pressed hard into the sidewalk and his shoulders were yanked painfully in their sockets.

I was close enough to hear her talking at this point.

"Shut the fuck up," she said and her voice was stone cold.

The man struggled again and she pulled a stun gun off her belt, pressed her knee down hard in the guy's lower back and shoved the taser right at his balls.

I winced. I couldn't help it. That was just mean.

"You like the show?"

I realized she was talking to me. "Yeah, actually. I'm wondering what he did to deserve that."

"He's FTA," the woman answered. She leaned down toward the skip. "You going to behave, or should I get out the baton?"

"I'm done," the guy groaned and she nodded, standing up. She bent and grabbed the back of the guy's shirt and hauled him to his feet, lean muscle flexing in her arms.

"Where's your car?" I asked and she slid a look at me. It was the first good look I'd gotten at her and I was enjoying the view.

The woman had eyes the green of a deep, calm river dappled in shade and they were rimmed in black kohl and long black lashes. She had a small nose slightly turned up at the end, high, wide cheekbones and a slightly pointed chin. Her lips were full and looked naturally pink. She had her hair pulled back tight, braided, and bound with a wide piece of leather that wrapped the tail from the base of her neck to its end. It was hard to tell how long it was, but it was a dark auburn color, red and gold highlights catching the sun. She stood about five-five and probably weighed a buck twenty-five. Her arms were toned and she was lightly tanned.

She was dressed in jeans tucked into knee high black leather boots with low, Vibram soles. A black v-neck t-shirt was tucked into her jeans and she had a shoulder holster on with a Glock snugged up to her ribs. I'd already noticed the Tom Brown blade at the small of her back hooked to her belt, along with a can of defense spray, a cell phone, her stun gun, a collapsible baton and a few small compartments, one of which I'd seen her pull her cuffs out of. The woman was strapped.

She tipped her chin back the way she'd come. "About four blocks east."

"Want a ride?"

She looked me up and down and I wasn't unaware of the way her eyes lingered on my torso before moving to my eyes. I was dressed in RangeMan black from top to bottom. The heat was making my shirt stick between my shoulder blades and I didn't even want to think about what parts of me were sticking to other parts in my too-warm black cargos. I had my usual armament strapped in place and my size thirteen combat boots laced up with my pants tucked into the tops.

No flak vest, but I still managed to look intimidating enough that most people pretended I wasn't around or stared.

"What are you?" she questioned, raising her brows. Not intimidated.

"I work for a private security company. That's my work truck that you jumped off of."

"Can we get this over with?" the skip grumbled and the woman did something behind the man's back that had his knees buckling. She didn't let him slide to the ground but he shut up.

"Sure, what the hell."

We walked back to the Explorer and I held the door for her to shove her skip into the back seat and then opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in, buckling her belt as I came around to the driver's side and got in next to her.

"Lester Santos," I introduced myself, holding out my hand to her after dropping my coffee into the cup holder.

A small smile touched her full lips. "Mallory," she returned, taking my hand. She was wearing fingerless, black leather gloves and her firm handshake was accompanied with a direct gaze.

"Mallory what?" I asked, maybe holding her hand a moment longer than necessary.

"Just Mallory," she answered and her little smile turned cold.

Brr. "Alright, Just Mallory. Let's get you to your car." I started the engine and u-turned to head east down Genesee.

"It's a forest green Pathfinder," she said, checking on her skip who was studiously staring at the floor boards, mouth clamped shut. "On the left." A pause. "There." She pointed and I turned around so I could park behind her SUV.

I got out and helped Mallory load the man into the Pathfinder, although it really didn't seem like she needed my assistance. She had a cage divider between the back and front seats of the vehicle and she shut the guy in.

"I can see that you've got questions," she stated and I raised a brow at her.

"Can you?"

"Absolutely. And I would too. You say you work for a private security company, I'll bet you guys do some bond work and I don't want to step on any toes. I'm new in town and I'm freelancing for a couple of different bond offices." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a slim wallet, removing a business card and handing it to me.

"I've got to drop this guy at the PD, but if you'd like, you can call me and we could grab a bite. Then you can drill me." My eyes widened slightly of their own accord before I could slam the blank face into place at her choice of words. Something in her expression told me she'd used the words deliberately before she added, "For information. I'll tell you what I can."

I couldn't get a handle on her. Her word choice had been what I would have considered a blatant come-on in most circumstances, but she'd said it with zero inflection in her voice to indicate that's what it had been. Her expression was completely neutral now; whatever I thought I'd seen gone.

Glancing down at the card I saw that it had three lines of information.

**Mallory**

**Bail Enforcement Agent**

**609.555.7267**

"Thanks for the help, Lester Santos." One corner of her mouth kicked up slightly and she circled the Pathfinder to climb behind the wheel. The truck started and she eased onto the road and drove away.

I glanced down at the card again, flipping it over so I could see the back, but it was blank.

She was right. I was curious. It didn't hurt that she was smokin' hot. More than that, Ranger liked being informed of any new players in certain industries, both legal and illegal, that came to town. Bounty hunting was one of those industries.

Hal could continue filling in for me for the rest of the day. I'd been pulling some long hours for the past seven months, padding my bank account so I could buy a condo I'd been eyeing not far from RangeMan. Another two months of pulling double duty and I'd be able to buy it cash as well as pay for someone to step in and decorate it.

Mind made up, I flipped open my cell and dialed Hal.

"Talk," he commanded.

"I've got a situation. Can you finish my shift?"

"Affirmative." He was all business.

"I'll inform the boss." I disconnected and headed to Vinnie's. Maybe Connie knew something about Mallory.

#

"Yeah, I saw her. It was about three months ago. She came in and said she was looking for work, but Stephanie covers all the mid-range these days and this lady didn't look like low-level bonds to me." Connie flipped through her rolodex and came up with a card identical to the one Mallory had given him.

"She told me to call her if we had more work than our regular BEA's could handle and left. I haven't needed her and she hasn't stopped by since then."

My face was blank, but I was thinking. Three months. That's a while for a BEA to be in town, making apprehensions, without word reaching RangeMan.

"Check with Sebring at True Blue. Burrows hasn't been back, so maybe he hired Mallory."

I handed the card back to Connie and left the office. Standing on the sidewalk, I dialed Ranger.

"Yo."

"You heard anything about a new BEA in town? Female, goes by Mallory."

"There was some static about someone new in town, but it's been quiet and I've been busy. I heard something about a pimp getting shot that might have been related."

"I ran into her today. Or she almost ran into me, chasing a skip. Took him down without breaking a sweat. Hal's going to finish my shift on the surveillance gig and I'm going to take her up on a meeting. See if there's anything to worry about."

"She wouldn't happen to be attractive and packing heat, would she?" I could hear the smile in Ranger's voice. There was a lot more of that going around now that he and Stephanie were 'official'. It wasn't too hard to admit I was happy for them.

"Didn't notice," I lied.

Ranger's voice was still smiling when he answered. "Find out what you can. Don't get shot." He disconnected.

I checked my watch. It had been about forty-five minutes since Mallory gave me her card. I pulled it out of my pocket and dialed the number.

"Yo."

I froze for a second, wondering if I'd dialed the wrong number. 'Yo'?

"This is the part where you say something back, mouth breather." Her voice was even but bordered on irritated.

"It's Santos. Thought I'd take you up on that meet-and-eat offer."

"What was with the silence?" I heard a car start in the background and wondered if she was just leaving the TPD.

"Your greeting. It's common with some people I know but not many. Threw me off."

"Wouldn't want to do that." Her voice had warmed up a tad. There was a beat of silence before she continued. "I just finished with my skip. Where do you want to meet?"

"There's a deli at 63 Butler in the 'Burg. The Italian Peoples Bakery." I'd noticed she had GPS in her Pathfinder and figured she could probably use it.

I heard her shifting in her seat. "Got it. I'll meet you in..." there was a pause, like she was checking her watch. "Ten. Fifteen tops." She disconnected.

This was almost eerie. She could have been a RangeMan employee with her phone etiquette. I couldn't wait to tell Stephanie about her and the thought made me laugh.

If Mallory was just leaving the TPD it would probably take her more like forty minutes to get to the 'Burg, so I sat in my car and dialed Stephanie.

"Yo." Déjà vu.

"I want you to run a search for me, Beautiful."

"Lay it on me." A beat. "Don't be dirty."

I'm grinning as I tell her what I want her to look for. "New BEA, you might have heard of her. Goes by Mallory and so far I haven't gotten another name out of her. Connie said she came in about three months ago, but they didn't need the extra help." I give her a detailed physical description and the make and license plate number of her SUV.

"Sounds hot," Stephanie commented, and I could hear the sound of keys being punched as she took notes.

I decided to let that fly under the radar. "I'm going to meet her for lunch. I should get going if I'm going to beat her."

"Don't hurt her," Stephanie joked and hung up.

It took me fifteen minutes to get to the IPB and Mallory was leaning back against her Pathfinder, arms crossed over her chest, looking less than pleased. Fuck.

"I told you fifteen minutes tops. That was thirty minutes ago." I couldn't read her expression behind her mirrored aviators, but the set of her mouth and her tone were clear. I fucked up. "I'm busy. This meeting is a professional courtesy, not a social call. I would appreciate it if you were on time."

She's right, but I have no idea how the hell she made the forty minute drive in fifteen. The streets had been dead near the Guatepan, but it was nearing four in the afternoon and traffic was definitely making its presence known.

"My apologies. I miscalculated." I gestured toward the front door and I could feel the intensity of Mallory's glare before she moved away from the Pathfinder, walking beside me into the deli. I noticed that she scanned the room and moved away from the door when she entered.

"We just sit," I said when she hesitated and we headed for the back. There's was a corner booth, much too large for two people, but Mallory took that and I knew it was so we could both watch the door without being pressed against each other on a bench. A woman aware of her surroundings, obviously.

Mallory snaged a menu and scaned the sandwich choices. She decided on a roast beef sandwich on sourdough with extra horseradish and I got up to order for us both. I figured I could pay for the meal to make up for leaving her waiting in the parking lot.

"On me," I told her, placing the red plastic basket in front of her. There's a dill spear next to the sandwich that she ate first. Her glasses were hooked on the neckline of her shirt and she closed her eyes for a moment as she took the first bite.

Her eyes were considering as she turned her gaze to me. "I'll let you pay for being late." I liked that for some reason. "And I'll even drop the issue since I'm starving."

"Didn't grab lunch?" I asked, being conversational while we took the measure of each other.

"This _is_ lunch," she answered and I wondered if it was lunch for her because she didn't eat at lunch time or, like me, she didn't start her work day until late. I figured it was a toss-up.

About half-way through our sandwiches, Mallory got up and ordered two bottles of water. I should have thought of that. She payed with a couple bills out of her wallet and sat next to me again, shoving a bottle my way.

After taking a long draw from hers and wiping the bottle's condensation across her forehead she turned to business while I tried not to stare at the little droplets of sweat that had collected just above her breasts.

Be late, ogle the lady, get shot. Sounded like a great plan for the rest of my day.

She was watching me intently but I couldn't read her expression. She had the blank face down so pat I wondered if she's ex-military. She was still wearing her gloves and I didn't know how she'd managed to eat that much of her sandwich without them being covered in mayonnaise. I was wiping my hands on a napkin at that moment.

"Tell me about RangeMan," she said and I was a little startled. I hadn't told her I worked for RangeMan. I told her I work for a security company.

"I've heard of RangeMan, Santos," she said and I lifted a brow. "I am in bond enforcement. I hear things. The all black get-up gave you away."

Oh, good, I thought. She's not a mind reader. No wonder the RangeMan ESP had Steph so on edge sometimes. It's a little disconcerting to have something similar turned on you by a stranger.

Since the cat's out of the bag. "You've heard of Carlos Manoso?" I asked, figuring Ranger is the easiest way to start this. His rep usually covers a lot of ground.

"Street name Ranger," she confirmed. "I've heard of him but we've never met, as I'm sure he's told you by now."

I'm pretty impressed with her. She's aware that I would have started running some sort of check on her and I'm not the only one that's been doing their homework. I wondered if she started researching RangeMan previous to our meeting.

"Ranger is co-owner and President of RangeMan. We do security for properties, individuals, and occasionally we take large contracts and fill in for towns that are experiencing problems with affording adequate police presence. We also do high-ticket bond enforcement and we often work with LE agencies on cases." That about summed it up.

"What do you want to know about me?" She just took all that in without so much as a blink, taking another bite of her sandwich.

"What's your name?" I asked. It's really eating me and I don't know why.

"My name is Mallory. I have no doubt that you've got someone looking me up and you'll know more soon."

"Last name or first name?" Stephanie would be eating this up right now. A Merry Man, eaten by curiosity caused by a mysterious woman. It was funny if I put myself out of the situation.

She sighed through her nose. "Last," she answered. "But it's all I go by. Ever." That sounded final.

"What brings you to Trenton?"

"I needed out of my environment. This is about as far as I could get without leaving the country and I have a thing for coast line."

"Any specific reason you wanted to get away?"

"Yes." She didn't elaborate and I gave it up. Know when to push.

"How long have you been in town?"

"Four months. I want to finish this sandwich. Let's shut up for a minute."

I laughed and let her dig in. Maybe she's not having a veritable orgasm over her food, but she was enjoying it, licking a dab of spicy mustard off the corner of her lip, eyes hooded. I felt like an idiot because I had a hard-on watching her you could declaw a cat with.

We packed away the rest of our meal and the silence was comfortable. Mallory obviously wasn't intimidated by the gear or my size. In fact, she seemed to be mostly ignoring me, which I'm not used to from women. They notice me for one reason or another.

Sandwiches demolished, Mallory took another swig of her water and leaned back into the booth, settling into the corner and crossing her arms over her chest. "Continue," she invited.

She's nothing if not direct, I think as I order my thoughts. "Where'd you originate from?" I could do a regional search for her if necessary based on her original location.

"Circumstances of my birth, or do you mean prior to ending up in Trenton?" There was humor in the slight tilt of her lips and her eyes were smiling.

"Listening to the circumstances of your birth might be interesting, but I'll settle for the previous to Trenton part," I answered. I couldn't tell if she was flirting with me. I felt like I was asking weird personal questions about one of the guys at work. But hot. And with tits.

Mallory tilted her head to one side and then to the other. "West coast," she answered finally. "I took my time getting here." That explained the non-regional accent. The west coast is about as unaccented as it gets.

"How long have you been a BEA?" She didn't look any older than twenty-two. Maybe twenty-three.

"Eight years."

I raised a brow. "You don't look old enough for that much experience," I pointed out.

"I'm much older than I look." A dark shadow crossed her green eyes like the specter of a bad memory, gone an instant later. I wanted to ask how old she as, but my momma taught me better than to ask a lady her age.

"Who are you working for in town? You said you're freelancing?"

"I started making rounds to the various offices when I got into town, but didn't take any work until after I got settled. I'm working for a few of the different offices. The skip you saw me take in was for True Blue."

"I heard you checked out Plum Bail Bonds."

"I heard you do work for them," she returned.

"We handle their high level skips. Anything over a hundred gees. You do mid-range?" Now I was fishing.

"I prefer to work with my partner so I'm taking it easy until he gets here. I haven't taken anything over twenty-thousand and I'm staying away from the violent ones. Chasing some douche bag down the street is one thing. Taking a bullet doesn't interest me."

"You have a partner?"

"Yes, and now that I'm settled, he'll be relocating."

"He just drops his life to come to you?"

"Of course," she answered without hesitation, her voice matter-of-fact.

"Sounds like a good partner."

"He's the only person I trust with my life."

I could understand this, and although I'd trust any of the guys and Stephanie with my life, Bobby had been my partner for the last six years and I trusted him first of all.

I was about to fire off another question when Mallory scooted out of the booth. I followed, watching her pull her shades out of her shirt and slip them back over her eyes, effectively blocking most the top half of her face. The aviators were big enough to completely cover her eyebrows.

She held out her hand and I shook it, aware that my hand almost completely enveloped hers. Her handshake is firm and she pulled away while I was tempted to hold on.

"Thanks for the sandwich. I'm sure we'll be running into each other. Call me when you come up with blanks."

Blanks? I'm about to ask her what she means, but she's already moving toward the door. By the time I followed her out to the parking lot she'd already hopped into her Pathfinder, pulling the door shut behind her.

I watched her pull out of the lot when my cell chirped.

"Talk."

"Les, Mallory's Pathfinder is registered to a bonds office in Portland, Oregon that only exists on paper. I called the number and got what sounded like a fax machine. I looked up the company, Mariner Bail Bonds, and got nothing more than an EID. There's some other property, but it's harder to access. I'll keep checking, but bonds offices like to keep their assets private." Stephanie sounded perplexed over the phone and I couldn't blame her.

I was beginning to get a whiff of what Mallory meant by 'blanks'. Still no name and no connections. Maybe I could hunt her down and lift her wallet. She would be required to keep a valid ID as well as her credentials on her at all times. Somehow, that seemed shady. If there's anything we understand at RangeMan, it's valuing our privacy and anonymity on the streets. Mallory didn't know me and was likely protecting herself.

"Thanks, Steph. Keep an ear to the ground for me."

"Wilco."

After Stephanie disconnected I pull the phone away from my ear and looked down at it. Too soon to call her already? I wavered. Yeah. Probably.

Now I had the whole damned day and not a clue what to do with myself. Great. Since I was already playing detective, I decided to check out the only other lead I had on Mallory.

It didn't take me long to get to True Blue Bail Bonds and a quick drive by told me that Mallory's Pathfinder wasn't around, so I climbed out and strolled through the front doors and made my presence known to the woman sitting behind the counter.

"May I help you?" she asked, not batting so much as a lash at my SWAT-style uniform and gun belt.

Turn on the charm. "Hi, there," I began, flashing her a grin that made little old ladies love me and young women's panties fall off. I was reaching though, and I knew it. The grin didn't do shit to Mallory as far as I could tell. Maybe I was beginning to lose my touch.

The lady at the counter was probably in her forties and she didn't react to the smile either. I wondered if I had sandwich crap in my teeth and wished I'd checked in the visor mirror in the truck before coming in. She had her eyebrows raised at me, waiting for me to get to business.

"I was wondering if you had any information about a new BEA that's been working for you. A young woman, goes by Mallory?" Might as well get to the point since my charm seemed to be on the fritz. And now I was feeling a little self-conscious about my mystery-status teeth.

Recognition crossed the woman's face at the name, but she still wasn't looking forthcoming.

"Yes," she answered warily, her eyes resting on the RangeMan logo on my shirt. "Has there been a problem?" She was probably wondering if Mallory pissed off Ranger.

"No problem," I immediately clarified. "I met her while she was apprehending an FTA earlier today and thought I'd get in touch with her, see if she'd be interested in a business proposition." That felt safe. Mallory obviously had skills and everyone knew Steph was working for RangeMan, so it wouldn't be a stretch that Ranger might be interested in hiring another pretty bounty hunter to make the rest of us muscle heads look good.

Lie must have worked, because Buckshot Betty behind the counter was looking less likely to pull the trigger on me. "Mallory has a very specific contract with Mr. Sebring: We're not allowed to discuss any of her personal information or share her contact information with anyone less than a law enforcement agent in the course of their duty."

What? "I don't understand." Not a fucking bit.

"Mallory had Mr. Sebring sign a contract prohibiting the sharing of her personal information."

"I have a hard time believing Mr. Sebring would consent to such a contract with a BEA with no prior history in Trenton."

"You'd have to bring that up with him. I _can_ tell you that, when she was here a little over an hour ago, she said she'd be doing another take down. You might be able to catch her at the PD after she collects her body receipt."

Ah, so that's how she beat me to the deli. She wasn't at the TPD at all, she was at the bonds office.

"Has she caught her FTA already?" I wasn't interested in sitting in front of the police station without knowing if she'd get her man and show up.

"If she hasn't yet, she will. They never get away from Mallory."

#

**YO:** Don't worry, Mallory isn't a Ranger copy and you'll get to see a lighter side of her in the next chapter. Which, is mostly done now. Biggest problem: I haven't written in first person in a very, very long time. This is a writing exercise for me, but I'm struggling with tenses so these might come a little slower while I edit out the fuck ups. Should have chapter two up in a day or two. Hope you enjoy it ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE:** Thank you so much for your feedback. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

**SPOILERS:** You know it!

**RATING:** Language, adult situations. Pretty sure that's it for this round.

**CHAPTER TWO:**

I was being low and I knew it. It was probably a shitty idea, but I couldn't let go of my borderline obsession with figuring out Mallory's first name. Stephanie would probably track her down after enough time, but I was impatient. This had become a challenge and I meant to succeed.

From my position I was able to watch Mallory's Pathfinder pull into the loading lot for the TPD. I waited a moment, giving her time to get her FTA inside before I pulled into the lot. I parked and headed into the department.

Mallory had a guy that must have been six-three and pushing three-hundred pounds by the front of the shirt. Her face was blank as she gave him a little palm-heal to the chest, knocking him back onto the bench. She pointed her finger in his face. I couldn't hear her, but I could read her lips clearly. "Stay."

Bubba didn't look like he's was in any hurry to try her patience and slumped onto the bench, his hands still locked behind his back.

Gaspick was working as the docket officer, and when Mallory had her back to me, I made my move. Gaspick was filling out her body receipt and I was able to check his writing upside down over her shoulder before she reacted to my presence.

Mallory turned to face me, giving away nothing. Her expression was steely and I thought maybe I'd crossed a line with her that could be hard, or maybe even impossible, to un-cross.

"Not a word," she said, taking the body receipt from Gaspick without removing her eyes from me. They were a brighter green than before and I guessed it was anger that got them flashing.

"Let's talk." Her voice was clipped and I followed her back out to the parking lot. When we were standing near the driver's door of her Pathfinder she rounded on me, hooking her thumbs behind her belt buckle, eyes slightly narrowed.

"Wouldn't have figured you for a Gabrielle," I began, trying for a light tone.

"I'm going to tell you a few things about me," she stated, ignoring my opening. "The first thing is that if I talk about myself at all, it's the truth. The second is that I value my privacy, both for my own safety as well as that of my partner, above all things. The third thing is that I'm not a very nice person and I don't like being pressured. I push back."

Point taken. This had definitely been a bad idea.

"I'm sorry. I have an insatiable curiosity and you piqued my interest." I smiled but reserved the grin.

Something about the way her eyes wandered over me made me feel like a side of meat. When she returned her gaze to mine some of the ice had thawed and her lips were hinting at a smile. "I have no doubt that you're insatiable." Again with the toneless double entendre.

"I like you," she said suddenly and I raised a brow. "So I'm going to ignore that this is the second time you've pissed me off even though I haven't even known you for twelve hours. I would appreciate it if you would keep the knowledge of my full name to yourself. I know you'll be running a background check on me, so your colleagues will also know it. Please inform them that I only answer to Mallory and that my first name should be referenced as little as possible, especially in company. I protect myself by remaining anonymous to skips and most of them never learn my name."

"What about Mariner Bail Bonds?" I questioned. Maybe pushing too hard, but I wasn't lying about the insatiable curiosity.

Mallory tipped her head and I realize it was a sign that she was carefully considering her words before she spoke. "It's a front," she divulged. "The number records information on callers and lets me know when someone is making inquiries about me. It's also difficult to trace any of my assets through it. It's not much, but it's mine."

At that moment her phone rang. She held up a finger, indicating I should wait while she took a few steps back and read the screen of her phone before answering.

"Yo." Her voice was warm despite the abrupt greeting and a smile played over her lips. "Yeah." Her gaze came back to me. "Absolutely." And then, "Keep me posted. Peace." She disconnected and clipped her phone back to her belt, stepping closer to me once more.

I wondered who she'd been talking to that was able to get her smiling. I was thinking I'd like to get her smiling and warm her voice up like that and I was a little thrown by the sentiment.

"I'd like to apologize again for the way I went about getting your name," I told her, resuming our conversation.

Her expression was still a shade closer to inviting after her phone call. She checked her watch and smiled slightly. "Wanna make it up to me?"

I arched an eyebrow but I was thinking, hell yes. "What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing too strenuous." Damn. "I can't drop this receipt off until Monday and I'm done for the day. I could go for a drink, especially if it's your treat."

"I don't have any plans. I'm down if you want to follow me."

"Lead the way."

#

Fridays at Shorty's are rowdy and can occasionally border on dangerous. I led Mallory there without any real thought, but I was beginning to second-guess my choice as last Friday came to mind.

Tank had brought Lula along and one of the many drunks eyeballing her huge boobs practically falling out of her too-small spandex number had decided to get a closer look and found himself tossed into the parking lot on his face. And then shit hit the fan. None of the Merry Men were seriously injured, but the cops had shown up and it had been a shitty way to end the night.

As I scanned the parking lot I noticed a black RangeMan SUV in the parking lot and guessed some of the guys were inside, laying waste to beers, shots, and possibly a pool table.

I parked and Mallory pulled in beside me, meeting me around the front of our SUV's.

"This your regular joint?" she asked and I saw that she'd lost the utility belt and shoulder holster, but her Glock was on her hip and she was still wearing the Tom Brown knife as well as a lightweight black leather jacket over her t-shirt.

"It can be rowdy, if you'd like to go somewhere else," I warned her but she shook her head.

"That RangeMan?" she questioned, indicating the black Explorer, identical to my own, parked a few stalls away.

"A few of the guys tend to come here on Fridays," I acknowledged.

Mallory smiled and I grinned back, pleased when her eyes dropped to my mouth and lingered for a moment before returning my gaze. "Taking me to meet the family already?"

"No time like the present."

We started walking toward the doors and I had to stop myself from throwing a companionable arm around her shoulders the way I would with Stephanie. This woman wasn't anything like her and I couldn't be sure what her response would be. I did hold the door for her and allow her to enter first, however, and was rewarded with another smile.

"Santos!" a voice called across the bar and I spotted Bobby, my partner and the closest thing to a brother I've ever had. He was barely hanging onto the edge of a bench seat at the booth him and four of the other guys were crowded into.

I turned to glance down at Mallory and found her scanning the crowd, arms relaxed at her sides. She didn't look at all intimidated, but I doubt she'd have shown it if she were.

"That's my partner. Want to join him and the guys?"

She turned to me and her gaze was frank. "As long as my name is need-to-know in here."

"Mallory. Check." Without thinking I put my hand in the center of her back and expected her to pull away, but she allowed it and I relaxed as I guided her to the table, reluctant to let her go once we got to the guys. I liked touching her.

"Mallory, this is Bobby, Woody, Cal, Manuel, and Zero. Guys, this is Mallory. She's BEA and new in town."

The guys greeted her, crowding out of the booth as they jostled to shake hands and welcome her to the group.

She smiled and I was convinced it was just short of a grin. "Great to meet you all," she said and there was laughter in her voice as she slapped hands and bumped knuckles with each of the guys. I don't think I'd ever seen a woman do that before but she was easy with it.

I left Mallory with the guys to fetch a couple of chairs from the stacks against the wall near the bar, bringing back four so we wouldn't have to jam our elbows into each other for the remainder of the evening.

When I returned, Mallory had her hip hitched on the edge of the table, and her arms crossed over her chest. Her leather jacket was folded over her arm and she was laughing at something Bobby said to her.

"You warm up quick," I observed.

"I don't like to always be the job," she answered, taking a chair from me and dropping down into it after draping her jacket across the back. "So, about that drink..."

I laughed. "What can I get you?"

"Jack double and a Heineken."

"You got it." I set out the rest of the chairs and the guys spread out, taking advantage of the extra room while Bobby followed me to the bar.

"Where'd you find her?" he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar and watching her while I ordered shots and beers for everyone.

"Completely random. Watched her take a skip down on Genesee earlier this afternoon. And then I pissed her off a couple times."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at me, finally taking his attention off Mallory. "She seems pretty easy-going. What'd you do?"

He was right. She did seem laid back, but that just made it more obvious to me that she took her job seriously. "She wasn't easy-going when she was on the clock. She tasered the poor bastard I watched her take down right in the balls when he wouldn't stop struggling and then threatened to take her baton to him."

"Yikes," Bobby agreed, subconsciously lowering a hand to cover his own boys.

I turned and handed my debit card to the bartender and instructed him to keep a tab open for me before collecting the tray of shots while Bobby grabbed the beers.

Mallory was listening to the tale of the Boxter Ranger had given Stephanie and its almost-immediate demise at the hands of a bomb and a dump truck. Her expression was faintly incredulous as Woody described the collision, the explosions, and then the big finale. He was gesturing to imitate the crushing of the Boxter when the truck landed on it and her shoulders shook with a silent chuckle, her face fixed in a grin. Wow. The grin is a little crooked and she has a tiny dimple just below the left corner of her mouth.

I don't realize I've stopped walking to stare until Bobby dodges around me.

"Shit, man. Warn a brother before you start a traffic jam," he cursed and I gave myself a mental headshake as I started to follow him.

Woody, Manuel, and Zero were still in the booth, but Cal had moved into the chair to Mallory's right. Bobby and I placed the trays on the table and I sat next to Mallory with Bobby on my left.

Mallory snagged a shot glass and brought it to her nose, inhaling with a little smile on her lips and her eyes closed.

"Now we're talkin'," she said and turned her smile on me. Damn.

We all followed suit, grabbing shot glasses and leaning forward to clank them together.

"To Mallory, who has no idea what she's gotten herself into," Cal toasted and we all sent up a here, here and knocked our whiskey back. Whiskey grimaces all around and then we cracked the fresh beers.

"So, where'd you come from, Mallory?" Woody asked.

"West coast," she replied, taking a long draw off her beer and then standing.

I had a sudden image of her walking out to avoid any personal questions, but she surprised me.

"I need more whiskey. You guys want another round? I've got this one," she said, looking around the table.

"We'll let you get this one, but we're buying the rest," Manuel said in way of answer and I couldn't stop myself from leaning back in my chair and staring at her ass while she bent over the table, collecting the empty shot glasses and stacking them on one of the trays. Bobby and Cal were openly admiring the view also and I could just make out Woody's face splitting in a shit-eating grin across the table.

"Like the view?" Mallory asked, turning abruptly to catch me staring.

Caught. Deny, deny, deny. "What view?"

Her answer was a smirk and then she swept past me with the tray of empties, heading for the bar.

"Nice recovery," Bobby said and I laughed. "Too bad she didn't buy it."

"Yeah. I really hope she doesn't taser my nuts. That looked painful." Bobby and I shuddered and the other guys looked confused.

I turned to check on Mallory at the bar while she ordered our shots. There was a man sitting in a stool next to her, leering blatantly. I nudged Bobby with my elbow and lifted my chin in Mallory's direction, indicating he should look.

As we watched, Mallory turned her attention to the man. She slowly looked him bottom to top, her face blank, eyes slightly hooded, and then she met his gaze. The guy held it for a moment and then abruptly turned away without saying a word.

After another moment she was heading our way, loaded with shots.

"That some kind of super power?" Cal asked as she set the tray down, taking her seat once more.

"Which?" she asked, lifting a shot off the tray and raising her brows at him.

"The evil eye you gave dude-bro at the bar. I was waiting for him to turn into a block of ice when you gave him that look."

We all waited for her answer, shot glasses in hand.

"Jedi mind tricks," she replied nonchalantly and Cal laughed.

"Shots!" Zero encouraged and we all lifted our glasses.

"Shots!" we all chorused and pounded them back.

At some point we ended up commandeering two pool tables. So far, Bobby had bought two rounds of shots, I'd bought another, Cal a couple pitchers of beer, and Manuel was at the bar with Woody, ordering more shots _and_ beers. I was feeling a decent buzz and checked on Mallory picking her pool cue from the rack, sighting along its length to check if it was bent. She glanced up at me, that little smile on her mouth as she replaced the cue and grabbed another.

I wandered over to her and watched as she examined two more sticks before she came up with one she liked.

"What do you think?" she asked, handing it to me. Dutifully, I sighted along the stick and ran my hand over it.

"Feels straight. You any good?" She'd partnered with Cal against Bobby and me.

"Only one way to find out," she returned and headed to the table where Manuel and Woody were placing our drinks. We pounded the shots and Manuel, Woody, and Zero moved to the other table to rack up the balls. Ours were ready and I was breaking.

I sank two stripes on the break and cleaned another one off before missing.

Cal was next and he sank two solids and Bobby grabbed another stripe for us.

Mallory was leaning against the pool table, sipping her Heineken. "My turn," she said and handed her beer off to Cal, accepting their cue in return.

I watched her move into position, bent slightly at the waist, holding the stick a little awkwardly while checking the angle of the cue ball against that of a solid near the corner pocket.

"Need some help?" I asked. "I know you're on the other team, but I could give you a few pointers." I moved to stand behind her and she looked back at me over her shoulder, and I couldn't stop the mental image of her doing something similar in bed, but preferably with less clothing involved.

"Oh, yeah? Like how to hold the stick? That's always a good one at a time like this." She was grinning at me and I could see that little dimple below her lip, begging to be kissed.

"Something like that," I replied, playing it cool and moving closer. I leaned over her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her to help her adjust the position of the cue. Holy shit, she smelled like whiskey and something dark and musky. I got her situated and pulled away before she realized I was sprung.

"Like this?" she questioned, not looking at me.

"Looking good," I answered, my voice a little gruff and Bobby as giving me a knowing look, a smirk on his face.

"Right on," she replied and then quickly cleared the table, sinking the eight ball at the end.

"Fuckin' A," Cal said and I was blown when she high-fived him, laughing and taking her beer back.

"Did I do it right?" she asked me, and her eyes were sparkling.

"Did you just high-five?" We all turned to look at Manuel. His game with Woody and Zero must have ceased when they realized Mallory was kicking ass.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," she replied and turned to Cal. "Let's show them another one."

Cal laughed and they slapped palms again. "You are my new favorite person!" he exclaimed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. I was more than a little jealous when she went with it, laughing easily.

Obviously, Bounty Hunter Mallory and Bar Mallory are different people. Or maybe she was just getting drunk. I checked for the signs of obvious inebriation, but she looked in control, her cheeks a little flushed from the booze. She noticed me studying her and waggled her eyebrows at me once.

"Who else wants to get pwned?" she asked, knocking back the last of her beer. "And which of you haven't bought a round yet?"

"She said 'pwned'," Cal sighed theatrically and she nudged him with an elbow.

"I'll buy another round, but I'm getting tequila," Zero offered and we all agreed that tequila sounded great.

Mallory was racking up the balls again when I stepped close to her. "What was with the act?" I questioned, watching her face while she arranged the balls in the rack.

"It's not a successful bar night without a guy showing me how to hold a stick," she answered, deadpan, before straightening up and returning my gaze.

God damn. "I can't figure you out," I said instead and she moved slightly into my space.

"I know, so here's another little piece of Mallory trivia for you; I tell a lot of dirty jokes and this is me being very tame."

I was mildly intoxicated and she was standing close enough that I could smell her perfume again and see the little orange flecks in the green of her eyes. My voice was low and a little raspy when I said, "What are you like untamed?" She's not the only one with a dirty mind, but I'm not joking.

Mallory tilted her head to the side, her expression amused. "I stop joking." She winked at me and stepped away, approaching the guys where they'd gathered around the shot tray.

I shook my head and moved to join them, and I wasn't the only one that stared when Mallory slowly licked the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger before dusting the damp skin with salt.

"You guys need to get out more," she observed wryly, looking up through her lashes and including us all with a sweep of her eyes.

"At least you didn't do what Bomber does," Bobby replied, getting his own salt.

"Bomber?"

"Stephanie," he clarified as we all took a turn with the salt.

Mallory let out a bark of laughter. "Bomber, because of the Boxter?"

"Actually, it started before that. With the funeral home she blew up, I think," I answered. "The papers called her the Bombshell Bounty Hunter and it stuck."

Collecting a lemon slice and her shot glass, Mallory stated, "I've got to meet this broad. She sounds like a blast." She paused, grinning. "No pun intended."

That had us all laughing and after we downed the tequila, licking salt and biting lemon, I realized that maybe we were a little more intoxicated than I'd originally thought. I was feeling pretty trashed.

"Yeow," Mallory said, thumping her glass on the table. "I think that just topped me off. They sell any food in this joint?"

"Nachos. I'm dying of hunger here. I'll order a couple plates we can all split," Bobby said and headed for the bar.

Manuel and Zero squared off against Mallory and Cal at the pool table again, and while Mallory didn't immediately clean the table off her break, she still won the game in the end, high-fiving Cal once more.

Before I knew it the bartender was announcing last call. Mallory was slouched on a bar stool, leaning her elbows back on the edge of the tall table behind her, watching Bobby and I play a game against Manuel and Woody through hooded eyes. Her long legs were slightly spread, boot heels caught on the bottom rung of the stool, t-shirt straining just slightly across her breasts and shoulders. I wanted to step up between her knees and lean in close to get another whiff of her scent and trail my lips over the slow, steady pulse I could see in the hollow of her throat.

"Earth to Les," Bobby chided, tapping my leg with the bottom of his pool cue. "It's your shot, man. Hurry up and win this. Bar's closing."

Pulling my head back together, I turned to the pool table and lined up my shot. I sank it and the eight ball that followed without hesitation and Bobby clapped me on the shoulder while knocking back the last of his beer.

I grinned and turned to see Mallory watching me. Her face was devoid of emotion, but she gave me a slight smile when I caught her eye. She had a beer dangling by the neck from her right hand and I wondered again at her gloves. She hadn't taken them off all night.

We ambled out of the bar, shrugging into our jackets and settling our debts at the bar.

Once we were outside, the cool night air hit my face and made me aware of the amount of alcohol I'd consumed. Mallory was just to my left, hands in her jacket pockets, scanning the lot. She turned to me and that almost smile was on her lips.

"Thanks, Santos. I needed the drink." Her manner was easy but she shook her head a little, as if clearing it. "Or twelve. I gotta call a cab."

I smiled at her. "A couple of the guys are coming to pick us up. We can drop you off."

Her face went blank for a moment and she stiffened slightly, studying me intently. She quickly relaxed, however, and nodded amicably. "I'd appreciate that. I don't normally let anyone see where I live, but I'm drunk and have this hunch that I can trust you."

"We only fuck with criminals at RangeMan," I assured her and turned her with a hand in the small of her back to follow the guys. Once more, she let me guide her and I let myself brush against her side slightly as we walked. She was electric, moving smoothly at my side, sending little shock waves through me every time her hip brushed against my thigh.

Just as we reached the Explorer a second, identical vehicle pulled up and the driver's side window went down, revealing Bones and Hector in the front seat and Vince leaning between them from the back seat.

"Someone call a cab?" Bones asked, grinning at us.

"Fuckin' A," Bobby said and climbed into the back of the SUV while Hector and Vince climbed out.

Hector held his hand out to me and I fished my keys out of my pocket, unclipping the set for the car and dropping them in his hand.

"_Quién es la mujer_?" he asked.

"Mallory, this is Hector. Hector, Mallory." Mallory shook Hector's hand.

"Pleasure," she said and he lifted her knuckles to his lips. She grinned and didn't look the slightest bit intimidated by the tear drop tattoo under his eye.

"Hector only speaks Spanish," I informed her.

"_Especialmente a su madre_," Hector added and I scowled at him.

"_No hablo Espa__ñ__iol_," Mallory informed us and I was relieved but Hector laughed.

We exchanged good nights and then Vince drove Woody, Manuel, and Zero out of the lot. Hector gave me a nod before following them in my Bronco and Mallory and I climbed into the remaining Explorer with Bones after Mallory grabbed her gear from the Pathfinder and set the alarm.

Mallory was sitting in the passenger seat so she could give Bones directions after they were introduced. Her house was situated a little south and east of the 'Burg on the corner of Cedar and Wilfred a few blocks from the cemetery.

Bones pulled up and Mallory used a key fob to remote open the gate blocking her driveway for the Explorer. The property was surrounded by a seven foot wall that was reminiscent of Japanese architecture. The yard and the house reflected the same style and I wondered what it looked like in the light.

"Thanks for the ride, man," she said to Bones and slapped his hand before giving him a knuckle bump. I loved that it didn't look forced or awkward when she did it. "Hopefully we'll get to hang sometime other than when you're driving my drunk ass home."

"Any time," Bones replied, smiling.

Mallory turned to me and winked. "Thanks for the rest." Her gaze shifted to Bobby. "Bobby, a pleasure." She repeated the hand shake process with Bobby but I didn't want a buddy-buddy slap and bump.

I climbed out of the Explorer as if my only reason was to claim the shotgun position, but when Mallory's boots hit the pavement I shut my door and stepped into her space. She tilted her head back slightly so she could see my face and I saw that hers had gone blank again. Shit.

"I'm glad you came out with us," I said and her expression warmed slightly.

"Me too. We'll do it again sometime." She hesitated slightly and then stepped up to me, rising up on tip-toe to brush a kiss across my cheek. I was almost dumb enough to turn my face into the kiss and capture her lips with my own, but I didn't doubt that would end up with me on my ass.

She stepped back and turned, heading up the walk to the covered porch stretching along the front of the house. I climbed up into the Explorer and watched her raise her hand to click open the gate that had shut automatically behind us.

Bones backed us out into the street and a moment later we were headed back to Haywood.

I couldn't figure her out, but that didn't bother me. I love mysteries.

#

**YO:** Mallory shares my own phone etiquette, and the "Yo" greeting is something I've been using since long before I read JE. She also does the hand-slap/knuckle-bump handshake because I do. "Pwned" is part of my daily vocabulary and I had to have her say it because it's one of my favorite words. Hopefully she was more fun this time around, and the dirty jokes between her and Lester will only get dirtier, I promise.

Can't wait to read your feedback ;)

**TRANSLATIONS**:

"_Quién es la mujer?_" - Who's the woman?

"_Especialmente a su madre_." - Especially to your mother.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE**: Sorry this chapter took so long. It's been one of those weeks. This one isn't looking any easier, but I'm hoping I can have this next chapter up a little faster. No promises, but I'll give it a shot.

This chapter topped out at almost exactly 7,200 words, so it's the longest so far. I hope it's not a yawn fest, but I'm trying to build the Mallory character. I hope you guys like her. Her past should add some pathos to the story but I don't want her to just be a sob story for Lester to fix. I want her to be fun, too, and someone that the other characters will like. Hard to play with a new person in someone else's sandbox.

Anyways, I write this specifically for your feedback. Thank you so much for your continued comments. If you haven't commented yet, I'd love to hear from you.

**SPOILERS**: Yeah, some. Just always assume that there's tons.

**RATING**: Pretty mild this chapter. Some language, sexual tension, brief mentions of violence, and some implied stuff. As usual, this isn't intended for children, but if you're a kid like I was, you're probably not going to care. Just don't let your parents catch you reading this.

**CHAPTER THREE:**

The sound of my cell phone ringing woke me around nine in the morning. I had my face buried in my pillow and I groped around on the bedside table to find the phone, unwilling to open my eyes and face the morning.

"Talk," I growled into the phone once I had it pressed to my ear.

"Lester?"

My voice had been muffled by the pillow, but I recognized Stephanie's on the other end. Reluctant, I turned my head to free up my mouth. "What's up, beautiful?"

"You find out anything else about Mallory? I'm running some searches for Silvio this morning and thought I could throw Mallory in there for you." I heard her slurping something, probably coffee, over the line.

"First name is Gabrielle. She hinted that she owns Mariner, but it's a front for her assets. She's big on privacy."

"How'd you get the name?" Stephanie asked. She was always Ms. Curiosity.

I ran that event over in my mind for a moment. "It wasn't my best moment," I admitted, finally rolling to my back and throwing my arm over my eyes. It was time to invest in some blackout curtains.

"Explain." Jesus, the woman had picked up on our shitty phone etiquette.

"I snuck up on her at the docket desk and copped a glimpse of her body receipt before she noticed I was behind her," I admitted and Stephanie's infectious giggle filled the line.

"Oh, yeah?" she laughed. "How'd that go?"

"I thought she was going to taser my nuts, honestly. But then she told me I could buy her a drink instead."

"It's the charm, Les. No straight woman could shrug it off." Her voice was a mixture of teasing and sincerity.

I smiled, pleased. Stephanie was Ranger's, and that worked both ways, but she was still hot and I wasn't so vain as to not enjoy the compliment.

"You're good for my ego, beautiful." I sighed. "Listen, Mallory hasn't said much about herself, but I get the feeling that she isn't hiding anything dangerous, just personal. Go ahead and run the searches, but don't dig deep."

"You got it bad," Stephanie drawled, amusement clear in her tone.

A million defensive comebacks zipped through my mind. Something joking and sarcastic. Steph knew me too well, though, and I could drop all of the macho bullshit when I talked to her.

"Maybe. I don't know. She's so tight lipped. And I can't tell if she's flirting with me or not." I hesitated. "She kissed me last night."

"Last night?"

"Some of the guys were at Shorty's and that's where I took her. She was... different there. Laid back. Friendly. We drank too much and she caught a ride to her place with us. She kissed my cheek before she went inside."

"You're this worked up over a cheek kiss?" Stephanie said, slightly incredulous.

"I can't believe it either. You gotta meet her."

"Why don't you call her? Offer to give her a ride to pick up her car. Then you can offer to take her to lunch and I'll meet you there with Lula. Us bounty hunter chicks gotta stick together."

"You're smooth," I chuckled, already picking out what I'd say to Mallory over the phone. It was a good plan. I just hoped it didn't end with me getting tasered. Or shot.

"Let me know when to meet you. I'll run that search, but I'll keep a light touch," she answered, her voice still smiling.

"Roger." I disconnected and scrolled through my dialed numbers to find Mallory's. I saved it to my phonebook before dialing.

The phone rang so long I thought it was going to go to voicemail, but she answered finally.

"Make it count." Mallory's voice was raspy with sleep and my morning wood perked right the fuck up. Her voice was on the deeper side as it was, but sleep roughened she sounded like a wet dream come to life.

"Did I wake you?" I asked, conscious that my own voice was still growly and now it had deepened even further.

"Fuck, dude. What time is it?" I heard something crash over the line and then some colorful swearing. Mallory was not a morning person. I liked the way she said 'dude'.

"A little after nine. I didn't mean to wake you, but I was wondering if you'd like a ride to your truck." That sounded neutral.

Mallory sounded like nine in the morning was too fucking early. "Fuck. Yeah, okay. But if you show up before ten, I'll shoot you." She disconnected and I realized I had a stupid grin on my face.

The digital clock said it was nine-twenty, so I rolled out of bed and ducked into the shower, lathering up and taking care of the wood before rinsing off. It was my day off and I dressed casually in faded jeans and a charcoal Henley. A peek out the window said it was going to rain later, so I snagged a zip-front hoodie before grabbing my gun, wallet, and the keys Hector had returned to me before I'd stumbled into my apartment the night before.

Still feeling drained from the previous night, I took the elevator to the fifth floor and got myself a cup of coffee from the break room. Stephanie came in while I was stirring in my creamer.

"Hey," she greeted me, smiling warmly.

"Hey, yourself. You getting coffee?"

She nodded so I made her a cup and then eyeballed the bag in her hand.

"What's in the bag?"

"Like you don't know. Grab a seat and I'll share."

We parked it at a corner table and Stephanie pulled out two Boston Cream doughnuts.

"I don't share with just anyone," she reminded me as she handed over one of the pastries.

"I know. But you love me." I gave her my best grin and she rolled her eyes.

"So," she started after munching down half of her doughnut, moaning and licking her fingers clean. I'm never going to get used to that. "You going to pick up Mallory?"

I nodded and washed down a bite with my coffee. "I would have left earlier, but she threatened to shoot me if I showed up before ten. I woke her up. I get the feeling she's not a morning person."

Stephanie laughed. "I like her already." She glanced up at the wall clock. "You've still got fifteen until ten. If you're smart you won't rush it."

"My intelligence seems to be sadly lacking when it comes to Mallory. I think I'll just fill up the tank before I head over. Should make up the difference." I finished my doughnut and coffee, tossing the cup into the trash, thanked Stephanie and headed for the garage.

It was just as well that I'd decided to get gas. The Explorer had been getting a lot of miles lately and was down to a quarter tank. I could have taken my own vehicle, but it was more personal and it didn't feel right. I filled up at a Shell station and then headed for Mallory's house.

I pulled up in front of her house and was about to dial her phone when the gate began to slide open. As soon as the gap was big enough I pulled into the drive. It extended to the closed doors of a two car garage and I parked in front of the left hand door. I'd just unbuckled and was reaching for the door handle when my phone rang. Mallory.

"Yo," I answered, looking out the window to her front porch.

"How do you like your coffee?"

What? I was a little thrown by the question and hesitated.

"You do drink coffee, right?" She sounded like a negative answer would indicate my sanity was slipping.

"Yeah."

"I've got sugar, fat free half-and-half, and fat free French vanilla creamer."

I'm a sucker for the French vanilla. "The creamer, please."

"Hope you like it strong. This isn't that sissy shit you guys drink over here." I was about to reply, but she hung up. Fuckin' A, she sucks on the phone. I swore I'd hang up first next time we were on the phone.

Still watching the door, I saw her come out of the house, two travel mugs held by the handles in her left hand. She locked up and came down the porch steps, rounding the Explorer and hopping into the passenger side.

The aviators were in place over her eyes and her hair was pulled back into the clubbed braid. She was wearing a thin black hoodie unzipped under her leather jacket and I could see her deep, forest green t-shirt and her shoulder holster under the jacket. The knife was at her back, but otherwise she wasn't wearing all her equipment and she had a black backpack with her.

"Coffee," she said in lieu of greeting, handing me a mug, her hands once again covered by the leather gloves.

I took it and sipped. Wow. That _was_ strong, but the creamer cut it and I found that I liked it that way.

"Morning," I said, starting the SUV and backed through the gate onto the street.

"Yes it is," she agreed, slouching in her seat, taking long pulls from her mug.

"Not a morning person?" I asked, heading towards Shorty's on the other side of town.

"Maybe morning isn't a Mallory person," she countered.

I could only smile at that. "What's in the bag?"

"My gear. Never know when you might need it. I'm not planning on working today, but I've got a couple files left and it never hurts to be prepared."

"And the glasses?" It was dark and overcast, not really what I considered sunglasses weather.

"I never go outside during daylight without sunglasses. Hurts my eyes."

"You weren't wearing any when you took down that guy on Genesee," I pointed out, turning onto South Broad and pointing us north.

"Left them in the car. I don't do chases with my glasses on." She turned to face me, but her expression was inscrutable behind the shades. "Is this Twenty Questions?"

"You don't like Twenty Questions?" I asked, one side of my mouth kicking up in a smile.

"I know better games that involve less talking." Whoa. That was suggestive and this time her voice wasn't deadpan.

I didn't miss a beat. "I'll bet you do. Maybe you'll teach me one or two of them sometime."

Her eyebrows rose slightly above the rims of her shades. "It could happen. Maybe you'll get lucky." She turned to look back out the windshield and I got the distinct feeling that she was done talking, whatever that little exchange had been about. My dick was sure it was about sex.

By the time we pulled into Shorty's lot both of our coffee mugs were empty and I was tempted to turn it upside down to get the last drops out. I needed more coffee. Mallory was gripping her own cup, head tilted down to stare at it.

"I need more coffee," she growled, mirroring my thoughts, and hopped out of the truck as soon as I parked.

I climbed out. "Shorty's has coffee," I offered as she checked her alarm and looked over her truck, making sure nothing had been tampered with.

"Sounds good," she answered and tossed her pack into the truck before following me into the restaurant half of the building.

Mallory immediately went for a back booth and took the seat facing the door. I hated having the door to my back, but I wanted to be able to see her face without having to turn on the bench.

She pulled off her shades, finally, and her eyes were made up in deep greens, the inner corners a pale mint blending to the outside in the same forest green as her shirt. Her eyes picked up the color and matched almost perfectly. She looked wary and a little mysterious. I really wanted to play Twenty Questions, but bit my tongue as a waitress approached the table.

"Coffee?" she asked, holding a carafe. We both shoved our mugs towards her and she topped them off. "You ready to order?"

"I'm good," Mallory replied and the waitress turned to me.

"Me too. Just the coffee, thanks."

The waitress smiled and left.

"Not hungry?" I commented.

"Today is not a breakfast day," she replied and began doctoring her coffee, pouring in four sugars and as many of the little creamers as she could fit before stirring. She took a sip and curled her lip. "God, how do you drink this shit? Tastes like coffee flavored water."

I took a sip. Definitely not as strong as her coffee had been, but it tasted okay. "Where are you from? Morocco?"

Mallory considered me, her head tilted slightly to the side in what I'd come to recognize as her thinking expression. "Seattle," she replied after a long moment. "Seattle knows coffee. This shit is weak sauce."

Weak sauce? That was funny. I liked that, so I grinned at her and she smiled back, her lips curling just a bit at the corners. I liked the smile and I liked even more that she'd told me she was from Seattle.

"You got plans today?" I asked after we got a refill. Mallory only put two sugars in and one creamer this time.

"I've got a meeting at four." Her voice was neutral, but her stare said I was pushing my luck with all the questions this morning.

"I was just wondering if you'd like to grab lunch later."

"Why?"

That threw me a little. I was expecting a yes or no, and I really didn't want to tell her that I was planning on surprising her with Stephanie, and by proxy, Lula.

"You improve the view," I chose, figuring it was some of the truth.

Mallory's gaze was suddenly fixed on a point over my left shoulder. She didn't change position, but she was suddenly very still, her gaze intense.

I almost turned in my seat but her hand shot across the table, grabbing my wrist. "Don't turn around," she commanded, voice low.

"What is it?" I asked, suddenly very aware of her hand on my arm. Her fingers were long and slender, the nails grown out slightly and neatly filed into smooth, unpolished half-moon curves.

Her fingers tightened slightly and I swear she let the pad of her thumb brush over my skin before she pulled her hand away, letting it rest on the table between us.

"One of my skips. Fifty-gees."

"I thought you didn't do the higher range without your partner?"

"I was bored. He looked interesting."

I turned slightly on the pretext of flagging down our waitress and caught sight of the guy that had bellied up to the bar. He wasn't a particularly big guy, maybe five-nine, a buck eighty, but wide in the shoulders and chest and he didn't look soft. I recognized him. Vinnie refused to bail the bastard out anymore, which is probably how he ended up on Mallory's list through another agency.

I cut my eyes to Mallory. "Do you know who that is?" _I_ knew who that was. It was Lowell Stark and he'd been picked up for multiple accounts of assault and battery the last time Vinnie had bonded him. His most recent victim had been a woman he'd beaten into a month long coma. She'd be walking with a limp for the rest of her life.

Deadpan, she replied, "Obviously." She still wasn't looking at me, but her gaze wasn't fixed directly on her man, either. Her eyes were searching the restaurant and she looked like a woman formulating a plan.

Her gaze finally slid to me and the smile she gave me was fierce. "I want this guy. Wanna help?"

"It's my day off." I wanted her to stay away from the douche bag and was hoping my non-cooperation would get her mind off a take-down.

Unfortunately, Mallory wasn't fazed. "Fair enough."

She stood and headed for the register to settle her bill and I noticed she'd left her glasses on the table. I grabbed them and slid out of the booth, following her at a distance. I had no idea what she might be planning, but I wanted to be close enough to assist if she tried something that might get her hurt.

I'd only met her the previous day, but maybe I should have known better.

Stark had picked up Mallory's movement and watched her as she headed toward him. She turned toward me and winked as she surreptitiously brushed her hand across the opening of her jacket to rest it on her hip, all the while giving Stark a clear view of the BEA badge on her belt and the holster holding her Glock.

He tensed and I went to move forward, Mallory turning back toward him and catching his eye. Stark moved like he was going to jump off the stool and do something reckless, but Mallory was faster. She skipped forward, striking out with a sharp right front kick, putting her weight behind it and knocking the stool out from under Stark before he could untangle himself from it. The stool shot into the aisle and Stark fell, catching his jaw on the bar on the way down, his teeth snapping together with an audible crack. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd spit a few teeth out, but it was obvious the guy wasn't going to be doing any spitting soon; he was out cold.

Mallory pulled a set of cuffs from her inside jacket pocket and swiftly had Stark secured.

Still crouched over him she looked up at me. "I could drag him," she said, "but it would be a bitch. How about giving me a hand?"

I was still holding her shades and wordlessly passed them to her before bending down and giving Stark a sharp crack across the face with the palm of my hand, but he didn't stir. Fuck.

"You should have lured him to the parking lot," I said, grabbing Stark by the collar and hauling him towards the door. "Pay the bill."

Mallory kissed at me and walked to the register. The excitement was already forgotten by the patrons who had returned to their breakfasts and coffees. One great thing about Shorty's is that the clientele can take pretty much anything, especially violence, in stride without hardly batting an eyelash.

By the time I got to Mallory's Pathfinder, Stark was starting to make waking-up noises, groaning and struggling slightly against my hold on his jacket. Mallory came out a moment later and beeped her truck unlocked so I could shove the skip in the back.

"That went well," she observed, shutting the door and smiling at me.

"You could have been hurt. That guy is dangerous." She'd handled herself like a pro and defused the guy pretty quick, but I'd been at the hospital with a knife wound when Stark's comatose victim had been wheeled in on a stretcher looking like she'd been worked over with a meat hammer.

"I'm going to forgive you that because you don't know me, but that guy is chump change. I'm not the kind of chick that takes a beating lying down and I can hold my own. Plus, you were there." She had those damned glasses on again and I couldn't read her eyes at all.

"You so sure I would have come to your rescue?" I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at her. I was almost a foot taller than her and I doubt my face was looking particularly friendly.

Mallory pulled off her glasses, treating me to a view of her jade eyes, and stepped closer to me. "If I'd needed it?" Her eyes slid over my face like a caress and she was standing close enough that if I'd taken a deep breath my hoodie would have brushed her jacket. "Absolutely."

"You sound pretty sure," I growled, partly angry that she'd had me worried and partly turned on by her proximity.

Her eyes flicked toward the skip locked in her Pathfinder and then back to me just before she put her shades back on and shifted back a step. Not a retreat, but a signal that she was done baiting me. "I'm always sure," she replied.

"Ride with me to the cop shop and I'll buy you lunch after," she invited. Booking was probably going to be a nightmare on a Saturday, but I really didn't have anything better to do and she was actually inviting me. The morning's, albeit small, sexually charged verbal sparring had me itching to spend more time with her and see where it would go. I'm asshole enough to admit I was hoping it would eventually lead to me in her pants. Maybe not today, but hopefully soon. I wanted to unravel the mystery that was Mallory.

Still, I pretended to mull over her offer for a moment before answering. "As long as I pick the place."

Her mouth curled into that little smirking smile and she climbed behind the wheel, starting the engine. I got in next to her and put on my seatbelt just as she was buckling her own. Engine running, Mallory pulled an iPod out of the inside jacket pocket opposite the one she'd gotten the cuffs out of and plugged it into an auxiliary cord snaking out from her stereo. She fiddled with the touch screen for a moment and then Tool began to pulse out of the speakers.

Stark made a disgusted sound from the back seat, but Mallory ignored him, pulling out of the lot and onto the road.

About halfway to the TPD, Stark decided to be more vocal about his dislike of Mallory's musical choice.

"Can you turn that fucking shit off? Your cunt trick gave me a pounding headache," he griped, sounding like he wouldn't mind slapping her around to get what he wanted.

I grabbed the 'oh-shit' handle above the window as Mallory suddenly whipped the Pathfinder off the road and into a random lot. She threw the truck into park and turned in her seat to confront Stark with the blank glare of her aviators.

"You really shouldn't distract me while I'm driving," she stated calmly, her voice and face expressionless. "I might get lost. I might end up somewhere where no one could hear you scream if you had a leg broken in seven places and ended up in a coma. You just might get left in a place like that, because I was so distraught over getting lost. I might forget you there. Something bad could happen to a wounded man in a place where no one can hear him scream."

She sounded fucking scary and more than capable of being the reason for Stark to have a broken leg and end up in a coma. I turned to look at him and he had his mouth clamped shut and was staring straight out the windshield. Hunh. I didn't miss that she knew about Stark's last victim's injuries and that she'd just offered to give Stark a taste of his own medicine.

Mallory continued to stare at him for a long moment, then turned forward and upped the volume a couple of notches. Stark couldn't see it, but her lips were tilted in amusement as she pulled back onto the road.

Just as I'd suspected, booking was a madhouse. Friday nights were always busy and the overflow tended to drag on until around one in the afternoon on Saturday's before all the detainees were either assigned to a cell or bailed out. Today was no exception. It was only around eleven in the morning and the cops on duty were looking harried.

I'd helped Mallory drag Stark into the station and I set him on the bench, standing over him menacingly as Mallory approached the docket officer. Gaspick again and he was giving Mallory a look that plainly said he didn't like her. She was giving him the blank stare, not removing her aviators despite being inside. She used those things like a fucking weapon.

I spotted Morelli coming into the space and he saw me right away and headed in my direction.

"Morelli," I greeted him. I was all business while standing over the skip, but Morelli knew not to take offense. Morelli had a good relationship with Stephanie, Ranger, myself, and RangeMan as a whole. Having a good cop like Morelli consider you and yours friends was a definite plus in our line of work.

"Santos. Nice of you to clean up this garbage." We shook hands.

"Not me," I corrected and nodded toward Mallory.

Morelli turned in the direction I'd indicated. "I've seen her around. Never talked to her before, though." He looked down at Stark. "You help her with the take-down?" Obviously, Morelli knew who Stark was too. Stark was looking relieved he had two working legs and all his mental facilities intact. Couldn't say I blamed him, but it was nice to see a dip shit scum bag like him put in his place by a woman.

"Not at all. She's fully capable."

Morelli scanned her and it was obvious his perusal was more than half male appreciation. From where we stood, Mallory's tight, denim clad ass was a pretty sight.

"I'll bet," he drawled and cut his eyes to me, smiling slightly. I was trying not to laugh, and his expression said he knew it.

Morelli ambled toward the docket desk and stood back a ways, watching Mallory's interaction with Gaspick. He seemed to be giving her grief over something in her paperwork and she was leaning forward slightly, the fingertips of her right hand pressed hard against the counter as she bent toward him.

Morelli moved in smoothly. "Gaspick, what's the hold up?"

"This BEA," his voice held evident disdain that she held that title and it was an attitude problem I'd noticed him copping with Stephanie before. It made me want to plant my fist in his face. "She didn't sign her paperwork for the FTA she brought in."

Mallory's stance was deceptively relaxed, but the subtle tension radiating off of her made me think she was contemplating bashing Gaspick in the face too.

"These the papers?" Morelli asked, reaching for the sheaf on the counter in front of Gaspick. He lifted them, flipping through the information.

"Yes," Gaspick replied through clenched teeth.

Morelli turned to Mallory. "Ms. Mallory, if you'll just sign here. I'm sure you just forgot." Mallory took the papers, reached across the counter lightening fast to snag a pen out of Gaspick's breast pocket and then bent over the papers, signing them quickly.

She handed the papers back to Gaspick. "I'd like that receipt now," she said quietly, holding out her hand.

Gaspick looked like he wanted to chew nails but had gotten crow instead. He finished filling out the body receipt and handed it over, but not without giving Morelli a dirty look.

Mallory and Morelli headed back toward me. Morelli was smiling slightly and Mallory was back to the blank look.

"Mallory, this is Detective Morelli. Morelli, meet Mallory, Trenton's newest bounty hunter," I introduced them and Mallory pulled off her glasses.

"Nice to meet you," Mallory said, shaking Morelli's hand in the traditional manner. "I appreciate your help with Officer Dick."

Morelli and I both grinned at that. "Gaspick needs a serious attitude adjustment," Morelli commented and pulled a set of cuffs off his belt.

"I'll cuff this lowlife so you can have your set back," Morelli said and then pinned Stark with his eyes, all traces of humor vanishing. "And you're going to cooperate while I do that, aren't you." It wasn't a question, but Stark nodded dully, turning and sitting forward so Morelli could reach the cuffs with his key. Morelli switched out the cuffs and handed Mallory her set.

"Thanks. I got distracted and forgot a set on an FTA I brought in yesterday," Mallory said, taking the cuffs from Morelli and shooting me a pointed look. I opted for the 'who me?' look, keeping my mouth shut.

"Shit happens," Morelli replied as we walked away from Stark, heading for the lot doors. "Good job with Stark."

Mallory gave him the almost smile and shook his hand again. "Thanks. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Detective."

"Morelli. Or Joe," he corrected her, holding her hand a moment too long, as I had done when I met her. I stomped down on a ridiculous flutter of jealousy. Where the fuck had that come from?

Mallory's smile deepened slightly and she pulled her hand away. "Morelli," she conceded, and I was strangely pleased that she'd chosen his last name instead of his first. "Take it easy."

"You too. Santos, I'll catch you later." Morelli gave me a nod and Mallory a full show of the smile I'd seen him use to disarm plenty of women. Then he turned and headed for the counter.

I looked down at Mallory and I'm pretty sure she was watching Morelli's ass as he walked away, but it was impossible to be sure since she'd popped her shades back on. She turned and looked up at me, inscrutable.

"Ready to go?"

I nodded and we headed back to the Pathfinder. "You know Pino's?" I asked as she beeped open the locks.

"Never been there. I don't eat out a lot."

"You like Italian?" I asked, but I was really wondering why she didn't go out much.

"Yes." She was back to being a chatterbox, obviously, I thought sarcastically.

"Then you'll like Pino's."

We climbed into the truck and I fired a text message to Stephanie while Mallory started the car and buckled herself in. I finished the text one-handed and simultaneously pulled out my own belt. I was hitting send as we pulled out of the lot.

Mallory didn't ask me about the text and I gave her directions to Pino's. I wasn't sure if Stephanie would beat us there, but it didn't really matter.

We pulled into Pino's lot and I spotted Stephanie's black Miata right away but I didn't say anything about it to Mallory. We walked into Pino's together and Mallory hooked her shades in the neck of her t-shirt as we stepped inside. As we moved into the main room I scanned the space for Stephanie. She saw me first.

"Lester," I heard her call and found her in a booth on the back wall, sitting across from Lula. I raised my hand and glanced down at Mallory. She'd heard Stephanie, also, and turned from them to me, her eyes slightly narrowed. Fuck. Caught.

"Let's sit with your friends," Mallory said, her voice deceptively pleasant. I checked her belt quickly, looking for the taser.

"We don't have to," I replied and she smiled tightly.

"I insist." She gestured with her hand and I led the way to the table, vaguely reassured that I hadn't seen the taser. I was hoping it was still in her pack in the SUV.

It only took a moment to cross the diner to Stephanie and Lula and I made introductions.

"Mallory, this is Stephanie and Lula." Mallory leaned over the table slightly and shook first Stephanie's and then Lula's hand, smiling slightly.

"Good to meet you," Mallory said. "Do you mind if we join you?"

"Of course not," Stephanie said warmly, already radiating her particular brand of charm. People love Stephanie. She's too indomitably friendly to dislike. I was suddenly worried Mallory would do something to hurt Steph's feelings, but Mallory was already shrugging out of her jacket, leaving her hoodie on. She dropped into the seat next to Stephanie, leaving me to sit next to Lula.

"I was hoping to meet you," Mallory said to Stephanie, and her voice was polite and friendly, relaxing me.

"You heard about our white girl, then?" Lula said. She was wearing a blacklight-purple spandex tank top decorated with glimmering rhinestones and black stretch pants. I couldn't see her shoes, but I was guessing it was her normal four inch heels in some faux animal print. The purple shirt looked ready to explode, but once again Lula's wardrobe was defying all previously assumed limits of spandex.

"Whatever you heard, it wasn't my fault," Stephanie explained preemptively.

Mallory chuckled, looking between the two of them. "I heard something about a flattened Boxter and a funeral home exploding. Sounds like good times."

"Actually, my grandmother blew up the funeral home. She fired her gun and it sort of started a chain reaction."

"Your grandmother?" Mallory laughed again.

"You gotta meet her," Lula said. "She's a crazy old lady, lemme tell you."

"Anyway," Stephanie interjected, derailing the topic of her grandmother. "Lester says your BEA. What made you get into that?"

"It sounded like fun," Mallory replied. "What's good here?" She grabbed one of the laminated menus behind the spice rack on the table. Stephanie wasn't the only one good at changing subjects.

"Meatball subs," I said, taking the topic change as an opportunity to join the conversation and slow down the question mill. No need to grill her right away. I figured the questions could start when Mallory had a meal in front of her that she might be less likely to ditch than me.

"Sounds good." Everyone was in agreement, so I flagged down a waitress and ordered subs all around and a Coke. Stephanie and Lula ordered the same, but Mallory ordered a Dr. Pepper.

"How about you?" Mallory asked Stephanie. "How'd you end up bounty hunting?"

"Lost my job, my car, and pretty much everything besides my apartment. I was desperate. So I blackmailed my cousin Vinnie into hiring me on."

"Vinnie, as in Vincent Plum Bail Bonds?" Mallory asked.

"One in the same," Stephanie confirmed. "Almost got myself killed a couple times chasing my first skip, too."

"Her first skip was Joe Morelli," I clarified.

"Detective Morelli?"

"You met Joe?" Stephanie questioned.

"At the cop shop, just before we came here."

Stephanie looked curious to hear about why we were at the TPD, so I picked up the story. "We grabbed coffee at Shorty's since we were already there and Mallory spotted Lowell Stark. She took him down and we hauled him off."

"You brought down that nasty bastard?" Lula said, sounding impressed. "That asshole get's off beating women. You rock, girl."

Mallory smiled. "That's why I chose him. Guys like that make me sick."

"She kicked his stool out from under him and he clipped his jaw on the bar on the way down," I added and Stephanie and Lula both laughed.

"Did it knock him out?" Stephanie asked, still laughing.

"Out cold," Mallory replied, a real smile on her face. "Santos was kind enough to drag the garbage to my truck. Morelli helped with a little snag I had with my paper work."

Stephanie raised a brow. "Gaspick doing docket today?"

"He give you shit, too?"

"That little prick is always giving Steph attitude," Lula answered. "I hate dealing with him. He's so by-the-book and always looks like he wants to arrest me."

"I think he looks at everyone like that," Stephanie replied drily.

"He's a fuck, but you gotta deal with them in this business," Mallory stated and then nodded to indicate the waitress returning with our drinks.

"You're food will be out in just a minute," she said, looking only at me as she put down our cups. I figured she was new because I hadn't seen her in here before, and she was even pretty enough that I might have returned the obvious interest normally, but I couldn't help but think that she couldn't hold a candle to Mallory.

Mallory radiated a restrained intensity and a raw sexuality that this girl could never compete with. I wondered if she realized the girl's interest in me and slid a glance her way.

She was smirking at me and she moved her eyes to the waitress and then back to me, letting me know she'd noticed and thought it was funny. I grinned back.

The waitress must have got a clue because she looked at Mallory too, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Thanks," Mallory said, giving the waitress her blank face and then dismissing her by turning her attention back to me.

The waitress moved away and Stephanie laughed. "He get's that all the time."

"I'll bet he does," Mallory replied, smirking at me again.

"Not all the time," I amended. "I scare people sometimes, too."

"You're just a good time all around," Mallory noted and I winked at her, earning myself a smile in return.

We chatted and sipped from our drinks while we waited for the food, Mallory asking Lula how she met Stephanie and effectively diverting the conversation away from herself. Mallory's expression was dark as she listened to the story and learned about Morelli's history as an FTA in the process.

Our food arrived and Mallory jokingly checked her sandwich for spit, grinning at me and drawing a laugh from Lula and Stephanie before Stephanie picked the story back up.

Stephanie even told the part where Morelli handcuffed her to the shower curtain and then called Ranger for help, not leaving out the part where she was naked.

By the time we were done eating Stephanie was just telling Mallory about tricking Morelli into a truck and locking him there so she could transfer him, with dead bodies no less, to the police station.

Food consumed and bill paid by an insistent Mallory, we all headed for the parking lot. We followed Stephanie and Lula to the Miata and Mallory gave me another meaningful look. It was obvious I wouldn't have missed this car when we pulled in and had chosen not to say anything about Stephanie being inside.

"You should come out with us sometime," Stephanie invited Mallory as she unlocked the car.

"You like to dance?" Lula asked.

"It's been known to happen," Mallory replied, smiling slightly.

"Even Lester goes with us," Stephanie added, grinning.

Mallory slid me a look and swept her eyes over me, bottom to top, so fast that I would have missed it if I hadn't been watching her. That one look and I felt my body tighten up. Fuck.

"Let me know when you're planning on going out again. Could be fun." Mallory handed Stephanie and Lula copies of the card she'd given me and accepted a card in return from Stephanie with the RangeMan logo on it and Lula's cell written on the back.

"Dance night with the Merry Men is always worth it," Lula said.

Stephanie checked her watch. "Shit. We gotta run. Ranger is waiting for me."

"It was great meeting both of you," Mallory said, shaking their hands again. "I'll be out of town this week, but give me a call after that and we'll get together."

"Will do." Stephanie and Lula climbed into the Miata and drove away, leaving me standing alone with Mallory.

She turned to me and her mouth was fixed in a grim line. "You know, you're lucky I really _did_ want to meet Stephanie or I might have felt fucking ambushed in there."

"Too much?" I was back to thinking about the taser at Mallory's sudden turn from amiable to business.

"The curiosity thing is cute," she said, sounding like it was anything but. "And I can handle questions if I don't want to answer them. I would have appreciated a heads-up, however." She tilted her head at me. "'Merry Men'?"

I laughed, feeling the momentary tension release. I was mostly certain I wasn't going to get my nuts fried. "Stephanie's nickname for the guys at RangeMan. We're the Merry Men but Ranger is Batman. I guess we have it coming with all the nicknames we give her."

"Guess I'll have to meet Batman, too, then." Mallory glanced at her watch. "Listen, I can drop you at your car, but then I've gotta split."

I checked my own watch. It was only a little after one and she said she didn't have her meeting until four. "Thought you were free until four?"

"As much fun as it is playing attack and defend with you and getting randomly introduced to all your friends, I really need to make a few phone calls before the meeting," she answered wryly.

"You mentioned you were going out of town?" I didn't want her to leave. I was just starting to scratch the surface and I had this terrible feeling that if she got too far out of my sight I'd lose track of her and she'd vanish forever. That was ridiculous, of course, but I can be greedy when it comes to something I want.

"You're prodding again." Her eyes narrowed slightly and she put on her sunglasses. I smiled slightly at the prodding reference and from the slight curl of her lips she was aware of my thoughts. "Just get in the fucking truck," she said, her voice amused.

I chuckled and we climbed into the Pathfinder and drove back to Shorty's.

"When are you going to be back?" I asked after she'd parked next to the Explorer.

Mallory sighed and pulled off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose before looking at me. "I don't know. A week, give or take a few days. Ten days tops." She studied me for a moment, eyes assessing. "No more questions?"

Her voice had been fairly neutral, but I could sense an underlying edge to her words. She was tolerating my questions for some reason, maybe in deference to what I was hoping was a mutual attraction, but I was nearing the edge of her patience and decided to back off.

"Just one. You got my number?"

Her face softened slightly and the tension around her mouth relaxed. "I saved it after you called this morning."

"Let me know when you're back in town. We'll grab a beer or something."

Mallory nodded. "I'll call you after I get back," she said and then cut her gaze to the digital clock display and back to me.

I leaned forward slightly and her eyes dropped to my mouth, lingering a moment before returning to meet my gaze. I wanted to kiss her and the slight darkening of her eyes said she wouldn't mind. My own gaze went to her lips and she shifted back, away from me.

"I have to go," she said, ending the moment, her voice devoid of any emotion.

I bit my tongue on a curse when she slid her glasses back on, hiding any emotions I might have gleaned from her expressive eyes.

Sighing mentally, I opened the door and stepped out, leaning down so I could look back in at her. "I'll be seeing you."

She nodded and I shut the door, stepping back as she put the truck in reverse and pulled out of the lot. I was a goner and I knew it.

#

**YO:** More interesting stuff planned for the next chapter. I'd love to have more to say right here, but I was busy with friends and whiskey all weekend and I'm fuckin' exhausted right now. If I don't pack it in right this instant and I'm going to fall asleep on the keyboard.

I can't wait to hear what you think of this new chapter. I hope you enjoy it.


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE**: First off, thanks so much for your fabulous feedback. I'm so glad you're all enjoying this story because I am just loving your comments.

Secondly, someone told me they don't understand the meaning of the term "pwned", so for you non-gamers, I'll cue you in. "Pwned" is a term that means "to own" as "to dominate, destroy, conquer" in a game. For example, when I whoop your rear end during online play, you've been pwned by me. If you play Halo online, you probably have been.

So, here's the fourth chapter. Not as long as the previous, but hopefully satisfying anyways. I can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter, and hope you enjoy learning a little bit more about Mallory.

**SPOILERS**: Assume that my FF always spoils it all.

**RATING**: Imagine the worst and smile.

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

Summarily dismissed by Mallory, I headed back to the Haywood building to see what Stephanie had dug up about my mystery woman. Stephanie was sitting at her cubicle when I arrived on the fifth floor and I leaned over her shoulder to say hello.

"Yo," I greeted her, scoping out the screen. I didn't recognize any of the information and quickly lost interest, straightening to lean against the wall of her cube.

"Yo, yourself. I got the information for you." She smiled at me and lifted a sheaf of papers out of her out-box, handing them over. There were only a few sheets, so I knew Stephanie had done as I asked and kept a light touch.

"What did you think of her?" I asked, tucking the sheaf under my arm to look over later.

"I thought she was good at keeping the conversation away from herself and that she wasn't too happy to be surprised by Lula and me at Pino's. She seems smart, capable, funny, and private." She paused, letting that sink in. "And I liked her. A lot."

"You like everyone," I countered, wordlessly agreeing to the rest of her observations.

"Not true. But I trust my Spidey-sense and she definitely wasn't setting off any alarms."

Stephanie was right. She didn't immediately like everyone and her 'Spidey-sense', while often referred to jokingly, was well-respected at RangeMan. We'd all benefited from Steph's intuition and it had helped avoid a number of bad situations.

"Did you read any of the information from your search?"

Stephanie shook her head. "Just skimmed it. I figured I'd leave the rest to you. I know you'll inform Ranger if anything needs double-checking, but I trust your gut on this."

"Thanks, beautiful." I leaned down and dropped a kiss on her forehead and headed back for my apartment, the information on one Gabrielle Mallory clutched in my hand.

I settled myself on the sofa with a beer once I got to my studio apartment to read the papers. The first bit of information that caught my eye was Mallory's full name and I laughed out loud. Gabrielle Danger Mallory. No joke. Her parents must have had a sense of humor. The next bit was related to immediate family and I read her parents' names, Lee Braddock Mallory and Marie Talia Mallory. No mention of the mom's maiden name. She had one brother, Iserate Trouble Mallory. More parental humor, obviously.

The rest of the information read like a timeline. The search had covered her juvenile record and there was a mention of a B&E when she was nine, of all things, but after that everything was quiet until she was twenty-two. I scanned back to the top and found her birthday. The first thing I noticed was that her birthday was July seventh, only a few weeks away. The second thing I noted was the year of her birth. She was thirty-two. Holy shit. She didn't look a day over twenty-four, and that was aiming high. Woman had good genes. I realized from what she'd told me that she must have started the BEA gig when she actually _was_ twenty-four and wondered what she'd looked like eight years ago.

When she was twenty-two there was a domestic disturbance that had landed Mallory in jail for a few days. The charges were three accounts of assault four, one of the most minor offenses a person could commit. The charges were dropped to one account of disturbing the peace, listed as Talking In A Manner That Could Lead to Violence. I didn't even know you could get convicted of something as pithy as that.

After that, Mallory went quiet for two years, popping back onto the grid as BEA. I sifted through the papers and found an employment history that listed a number of bond agencies along the west coast, mostly in Western Washington cities and a few along the board in northern Oregon, namely Portland. Mariner Bail Bonds wasn't mentioned at all, not even as an asset. Maybe it wasn't owned under her name.

Scanning through the rest of the paperwork, I found a marriage license and certificate. She'd been married the June before she turned twenty-four to some guy named Adam Smith. The next paper was confirmation of divorce and stated that Mallory had secured the divorce while Smith was absentee. I couldn't imagine any guy leaving Mallory. The page said the marriage officially ended when Mallory was twenty-seven, almost four years exactly after the wedding.

Curious, I thought about running a search on the man, but it seemed too likely that part of Mallory's mysterious past probably tied into her marriage to the guy and I really wanted to give Mallory a chance to talk to me about her past herself. So far, all the information I'd seen was just circumstantial and proved that Mallory wasn't secretly someone else than she claimed, or some psycho killer. The one conviction wasn't much to base a full-scale search on, so I shelved my curiosity and flipped through the information once more.

The fact that she'd been married was interesting. For some reason, I had a hard time picturing her in the wife role, but then, I really didn't know her very well. I thought back to her bringing me coffee that morning, which had been a nice surprise. I also reexamined her comment to Stephanie about hating guys that beat women and wondered if it was a hate born of experience. That didn't fit really, either. Mallory had said she wasn't the kind of woman that would just lie down and take a beating. That didn't, however, mean that someone hadn't tried to make her.

So many questions. The information Stephanie had given me had brought up more of those than answers and I was even more determined to learn Mallory's secrets. My own personal code of conduct for the game didn't allow me to dig any deeper with the programs at my disposal, so I figured I'd just have to be patient until she got back.

#

I fucking hate being patient. Two weeks had dragged by and we were now in the middle of June with no word from Mallory. I'd called her a few times over the past two weeks but her cell went straight to voicemail, tantalizing me with a scrap of her voice. I dialed it again.

No ring, just straight to the recording. "If you want me to call you back, you'll leave a message." Fuckin' A. I didn't leave a message, even though I would have liked her to call me back.

I hadn't heard from Mallory since she'd left me at Shorty's. That had been June fifth and it was now the twenty-first. She'd said she wouldn't be gone more than ten days but there hadn't been any contact.

"No luck?"

I turned my head to look at Bobby. We had just brought in a high-bond skip and were headed back toward Haywood. The clock said it was almost eight pm. I shook my head. "Her phone is still off."

Bobby smirked at me. "You want to do a drive by of her place? See if there's any activity?"

"She probably wouldn't appreciate that," I replied, wanting to do it anyways.

"If she's not there, she'll never know. And if she is there, then you can deal with it if you have to." He paused, shooting me a look. "You've got it bad."

I growled a sigh and rolled my head to look out the window. "You met her. Can you blame me?"

He laughed. "No. And you never could leave a mystery alone. No wonder you and Bomber get along so well."

I gave him the finger. "Just a quick drive-by," I said and Bobby laughed again.

We were pretty close to RangeMan by that time, and the great thing about the building's location is that it's roughly ten minutes from everywhere in Trenton. It only took us twelve to get to Mallory's place. This was probably why she didn't usually tell people where she lived.

It was difficult to tell if anyone was home. The house was set a ways back from the wall and the gate was closed.

"Dare you to jump up on the wall," Bobby said, pulling to a stop across the street.

I cut a look to him, arching a brow. I figured trying to jump Mallory's wall was a great way to get shot if she was home and a waste of my time if she wasn't. Either way, no go.

Bobby grinned and then glanced up at the rearview mirror. "We've got company," he stated, losing the grin.

I turned in my seat to see a midnight blue Shelby Mustang purring up behind us. It crossed the street and pulled up to the curb next to Mallory's wall before coming to a stop. The windows were tinted illegally dark so we couldn't see who was in the car, but I could guess. Shit.

The Mustang's engine cut out and the passenger side door opened, revealing a man that smoothly angled himself out onto the street. He was around six feet tall, with broad chest and shoulders under a black t-shirt. He had an impressive, reddish beard and his hair was buzzed tight to his skull. Heavy brows slanted over deep set eyes and he had a hand on the gun holstered at his hip. His face was expressionless, but he was watching our Explorer.

The man turned and said something to the driver and then straightened up, shutting the door to the Mustang and leaning back against it, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.

We watched the driver side door open and Mallory slipped into view as she stood, looking over the top of the car at us. She wasn't wearing any glasses and looked completely different from what I'd come to expect.

Mallory rounded the car, watching the Explorer, her face the same emotionless mask as the mystery man's. Mallory's hair was parted on the left side at an angle and swept back into a messy twist on the back of her head, held in place by what I couldn't see. She was wearing a strapless green sundress that fell to just below her knees and four inch stiletto sandals that showcased her calves. She had a green sweater in her hand and she shrugged into it, covering her arms and shoulders. I noticed that she wasn't wearing her gloves, but it looked like maybe she was wearing rings and even a few bracelets on her left wrist. She looked good enough to eat and I wanted to pull the smocking of her dress away from her skin and run my lips over the flesh beneath.

"We're been made, man," Bobby said, turning away from the window to look at me. "Make a run for it, or face the music?"

Mallory was still staring at the Explorer and as I looked past Bobby to her she jerked her chin up slightly, indicating I had better come out and say something.

"I'm really glad you're a medic," I muttered to Bobby and climbed out of the SUV. Bobby followed suit and we crossed the street together.

Mallory's mystery man pushed away from the Mustang and moved slightly in front of her, protective, his arms uncrossing and hanging loose at his sides.

Before I could say anything, Mallory spoke up. "What are you doing here?"

Certainly to the point. "I hadn't heard from you and we thought we'd do a drive-by out of curiosity," I answered. "I didn't think you were back yet."

Mystery Man turned his head slightly, looking at Mallory from the corner of his eye and she gave him a barely perceptible nod. He shifted away from her, leaning against the car once more. I suddenly realized that he was her partner, and, more importantly, that he looked very much like a large, male version of her. Mallory hadn't mentioned that her partner was also her brother.

"I got in Thursday," she replied, resting her hands on her hips. "I didn't realize I was supposed to check in the moment I hit Trenton."

I really didn't have anything to say to that, so I opted for the blank face in return, although I was strangely disappointed that she hadn't checked in the day of her arrival or at least the day after.

Bobby saved the moment from turning into a tense silence. "Good to see you again, Mallory," he greeted her, stepping forward.

Mallory's brother tensed slightly but relaxed when Mallory relented and slapped Bobby's hand, bumping knuckles.

"Well, since you're here," Mallory said, turning her attention back to me. "You might as well meet my partner. Ice, this is Lester Santos and his partner Bobby Brown. I mentioned them to you." Her tone said she'd more than mentioned us. His look said he'd heard plenty.

Ice, for Iserate I was guessing, shook hands with us, his grip firm, but he didn't do the macho squeezing thing, for which I was relieved. Up close I saw that his eyes were blue-gray in color and wary in much the same way as Mallory's.

"She didn't mention that you were her brother," I said, shaking his hand.

"Mallory doesn't mention much," he replied, releasing my hand to shake Bobby's.

"You're all dressed up. You working?" Mallory asked. She reached up to scratch her jaw with her left hand and I noticed a star tattooed on the inside of her wrist and a skull and crossbones tattooed on her left ring finger, right where a wedding set would sit.

"We just turned in an FTA. Surveillance finally paid off and we nailed the bastard," Bobby replied.

"So you're off duty, then?"

"Until tomorrow."

Mallory met her brother's gaze and it was obvious they were silently communicating about something. Ice lifted his left shoulder in a tiny shrug and Mallory must have took that for some sort of answer because she turned her attention back to me.

"We were going to eat some dinner. You guys are welcome to join us."

I was extremely grateful for my military background and years at RangeMan at that moment; without them my jaw would have dropped open and I would have been making a rather convincing impression of a fish. As it was, I hesitated. Once more, Bobby rescued me.

"I'm starving. Dinner sounds great. Right, Lester?" He looked at me pointedly and I nodded, momentarily mute. This was definitely better than getting shot, or even bitched out for invading Mallory's privacy. It was absolutely better than finding out if Ice was as capable as he looked. I'm good, but Ice looked like he'd make me work hard for a win in a fight.

"It would be a pleasure," I said, managing to keep my voice neutral. I was sure Mallory got off on throwing me off balance. Then I thought about getting Mallory off and had to give myself a mental shake.

"Follow us in." Ice and Mallory got back into the Mustang and the gate slid open. They drove through and we followed just before the gate shut behind us.

Mallory pulled the Mustang into the garage next to her Pathfinder and climbed out of the car, a white leather purse over her shoulder. Ice had a case of beer in his hand and Mallory gestured for us to follow them into the house through the garage, closing the garage door with her key fob.

We entered a short hallway with three closed doors on our right and another door at the end. An open archway to the left deposited the four of us into a large kitchen and breakfast area. Windows covered most of the back wall but the view of the yard beyond was blocked by wide-slat blinds. The breakfast area was open to what must have been the living room.

My mouth watered as I noticed the entire space smelled of roasted chicken and I watched as Ice loaded the case of beer into the large, stainless steel fridge. Mallory walked to a double oven and opened the lower of the two, pulling out the chicken that had produced the smells. She placed the bird on the counter and then opened the top oven and removed another dish full of roasted potatoes and onions. A pot on the stove held gravy and there was a bowl of steamed Brussels sprouts that came out of the microwave.

Mallory noticed Bobby and me staring at her and smiled slightly. "Dinner was done. But I was out of beer, so we made a trip."

Ice passed beers out to everyone and then helped Mallory carry the food to the breakfast table near the window. She opened the blinds, revealing a view of a deck and covered outdoor kitchen. Deep shadows were falling, obscuring much of what I could see, but it looked like a space designed for relaxing.

Between the two of them, Mallory and Ice had the table set in a few moments, moving with the efficiency of long familiarity.

"Sit," Mallory commanded us, gesturing toward the table. We'd taken up residence on two of the four stools at the counter bar and Bobby and I didn't have to be told twice to move toward the food.

Mallory carried a carving knife and serving fork with her to the table and deftly carved up the chicken, piecing out the legs, wings and thighs before slicing the breast. Ice had placed the gravy pot directly on the heavy pine table with a ladle and didn't waste any time loading his place with roasted potatoes and sprouts, pouring gravy over both. Mallory divided up the chicken between our four plates and let the rest of us finish dishing up before completing her own plate.

"You cooked this?" I asked her, spearing a cube of roasted sweet potato dripping in gravy and barely restraining myself from making a very Stephanie-esque noise of pleasure at the taste.

"I enjoy cooking, especially for company," she replied, taking a bite of her chicken, smiling in enjoyment.

"We would have had leftovers for lunch tomorrow," Ice said, addressing Bobby and me, and also digging in. "Mallory must be feeling generous to share."

I've often thought that you can tell how good a meal is by how much conversation goes on while people are eating it. Mallory's chicken dinner was excellent enough to discourage any further discussion and we finished the meal in relative silence. The only noise was silverware scraping on plates and an occasional 'mmm' of pleasure from one of us. Plates cleaned at almost the same exact moment, we all leaned back in our seats with sighs of contentment, sipping our beers.

"Damn, Mallory, that was fantastic," Bobby said, resting his hand on his stomach and lifting his beer to her in appreciation.

She smiled. "I aim to please," she replied and I swear her eyes flickered to me for a moment, giving me a tiny thrill.

"Thanks, Rielle. I needed that," Ice said and I latched on to the moniker. Rielle, hunh.

She must have noticed my reaction to the name because she caught my eye and her face was suddenly expressionless, jaw tight. The message was clear; Ice could call her Rielle, I could not.

I spotted Ice shifting his eyes between the two of us and Bobby was doing the same. Mallory herself broke the tension by standing and moving toward the fridge.

"Anyone else want another brew?" she tossed over her shoulder and we all chorused 'yes' together. I watched her hips sway under the full skirt of her dress as she sashayed across the room on her sexy sandals. She directed a smirk at us over her shoulder and placed her empty on the counter before grabbing four more beers out of the fridge.

Once the beers were distributed Mallory addressed Bobby and me. "We were going to play some Halo. You guys can hang around and play if you'd like."

I shifted my eyes to Bobby and smiled. "Halo?" he asked, immediately interested. Bobby and I often completed marathon gaming sessions, and the Halo series had long been a favorite.

"Could be fun," Ice added. "Mallory and me against the two of you. At least, until you've had enough." His smile was predatory.

"We're in," I said, accepting the challenge. It was time to bring Mallory down after her multiple pool wins at Shorty's.

Mallory excused herself to change out of her sun dress and Ice led us into the great room and we seated ourselves on the overstuffed furniture before the massive, sixty-five inch LCD television. Ice handed out Xbox 360 controllers and booted up the system. I noted that Mallory also had a pricey Bose surround sound stereo system and a few other game consols. The woman enjoyed her electronics.

Mallory appeared a moment later, barefoot and dressed in care worn low-slung blue jeans and a fitted black tank. When she passed in front of me to grab her own controller I saw the edges of what must have been a large, Japanese style tattoo on her back, peaking out over the neck of her tank and across the back of her shoulders. Her hair was still twisted off her neck and I wished I could see how long it really was.

A few moments later and we were battling on the science-fiction ring world, two-on-two. The first thing I realized as Mallory and Ice slaughtered Bobby and I for the tenth time without either of them getting killed was that the two of them has been handing out virtual beatings as a team for a long, long time. If they worked half as well together as BEA partners, the reputation Mallory seemed to have earned in such a short time at True Blue was well deserved.

They spoke little, except to taunt Bobby and me, 'tea-bagging' our bodies before running off to find us again and occasionally high-fiving each other when one or the other made a particularly spectacular kill. I could feel my competitive spirit rebelling against the beating and swore fluently when Mallory 'tea-bagged' me once more.

"I can't believe you fucking tea-bag," I griped as Mallory shot me a fierce and delighted grin, laughing.

"I don't tea-bag, baby. I camel-toe," she laughed. She had her attention fixed back on the screen and I saw Bobby moving to sneak up behind her. His attack was preempted when Ice stuck a grenade to his face and blew his avatar across the screen.

"I want to play online," Bobby growled as the game concluded. Mallory and Ice had a total of fifty-kills, Ice leading ahead of Mallory by five. Bobby and I scored in at six, four for Bobby and two for me.

"You guys can team with us online," Mallory said and fished headsets out of the coffee table. "Those should all be charged."

"What do we need headsets for?" Bobby asked. "We don't need them to communicate."

"I like the smack talk," Mallory admitted, grinning. "Helps me work out my frustrations and exercise my foul mouth."

We played Halo for three hours, stopping ocassionally to replenish our beers. Bobby and I were paired with Mallory and Ice and won match after match, all of us swearing and laughing at the other teams, high fiving one another and wrecking havoc on the unsuspecting online community. All-in-all, it was the best game run I'd ever had and Bobby and I were known to while away long hours on the console.

My favorite moment of the evening was when Mallory whacked some guy that had killed Bobby three times in a row and mocked him with a nasty little rhyme while desecrating his digital corpse. Her voice was gleefully sadistic as she taunted, "Feel the warm embrace of my camel-toe on your face."

I'd never played video games with a woman before and hearing Mallory run her dirty, smack talking mouth was fantastic. It was the only time I'd ever heard anyone keep up with my own twisted self.

Midnight rolled around and Bobby reminded me that we had work the next day at seven and Mallory turned off the consol and stood.

"I'm glad you guys decided to hang around," Mallory said, smiling warmly at us both. I hoped I wasn't imagining it when her eyes lingered on me a few moments longer than they did on Bobby. "We don't normally play with anyone that can keep up with us. We've been playing Halo as a team for nine years, so don't feel too bad about getting your asses handed to you."

Ice slapped and knuckle bumped hands with us both, and I felt like I'd known him for years. I figured if I didn't completely screw up things with Mallory at some point, Ice was definitely the kind of man I'd like to have as a friend and certainly not as an enemy.

Ice excused himself to the restroom and Mallory walked us to the front door, moving out onto the porch with Bobby and me. I turned to face her as she pulled the front door closed and Bobby smiled slightly at me after wishing Mallory goodnight once more and thanking her for dinner. He headed for the Explorer and I moved closer to Mallory, trying to read her face in the faint starlight and the pale glow of the waning crescent moon.

"Getting beat by a girl bother you?" she teased me, tilting her head back to meet my eyes.

I shook my head, smiling. "Actually, it kinda turned me on," I admitted, my voice lowering fractionally. Her smile widened slightly and the little dimple below her mouth peaked out at me.

"You enjoy a little beating?" she questioned and her voice was seductively amused. She moved into my space and I reached out to rest my hand on her hip, drawing her against me.

"I think I'd enjoy just about anything you'd like to do to me," I answered, dipping my head and inhaling her scent. Mallory placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my chest, her fingertips stroking lightly through the tight black material of my t-shirt, prompting me to grip her other hip with my free hand and fit her more tightly against me. I was already granite hard and when she rocked herself against me slightly I sucked in a sharp hiss and then took her mouth with mine.

Holy shit, it was like lighting a fire with a flame thrower. Mallory's lips immediately parted and her tongue slid against mine, hot and wet. I growled into her mouth and her arms wound around my neck as she went up on tip-toe, molding her body against mine. I wrapped an around her waist and moved my other hand up her side to rest on her ribs, my thumb lightly brushing the underside of her breast.

Mallory made a primal, purring noise and dragged her fingernails over my scalp, sending little tingling electrical shocks across my skin.

Before I knew it I had her pressed back against the door, dragging my mouth down her throat to taste her pulse in the hollow at the base of her neck. She held my mouth to her skin with a hand on the back of my head. I rocked my cock against the apex of her thighs and she moaned, rolling her hips.

I wanted to take her right there against the door as she dragged my mouth back to hers, working her tongue and lips skillfully against my own.

I was working my hand under the edge of her tank when Bobby, probably perfectly aware of what was happening on the porch despite the dark, turned on the headlights and gave the Explorer's horn a sharp tap. I pulled my mouth away and rested my forehead against hers, pleased that her breathing was as ragged as my own.

"Anytime you want to beat me, you just let me know," I rasped, rocking against her once more and kissing her gently when she moaned.

"Count on it," she whispered back, her voice breathless.

I disentangled myself from her and passed my palm over my scalp, my heart still thundering in my chest. It was satisfying to see Mallory's pulse leaping visibly in her throat and to hear the tiny catch in her breathing that indicated she was just as affected by our kiss as I was.

"I'll be seeing you," she whispered and brushed her finger over my lower lip, her own mouth curving into a seductive smile.

"Believe it," I answered and surprised her by suddenly shoving her against the door once more and kissing her hard and deep, sweeping my tongue into her mouth before moving away and hopping down the porch steps to the stone walk that led to the driveway.

I turned and looked at Mallory just before I climbed into the SUV. She was standing at the rail, one hip hitched against it and her arms folded across her chest. Her face was too dark for me to read her expression, but I thought she was smiling. The gate rolled open behind us and Bobby backed us out of the drive and onto the road.

That was better than hanging up first, I thought, smiling slightly to myself.

Bobby shot me a sideways look, a smirk twisting his mouth.

"Have fun saying goodbye?" he asked, his voice amused.

"Oh, yeah," I replied, grinning back at him. "You picked a shitty moment to honk the horn," I added.

"Depends on your view. For you, probably. For me, just in time."

I continued to grin like a fool. "There's always next time."

#

**YO**: A few fun facts: Mallory and her brother's middle names are a reference to my own brother. He wants his kids' middle names to be Danger and Trouble (should he ever get around to procreating). Also, Mallory's brother is based on my own brother, who's middle name (one of the four, anyway) is Iserate. My brother could be a Merry Man and is one scary dude. Thankfully, he's on my side. Mallory's voicemail message is my own.

Talking In A Manner That Could Lead to Violence is an actual crime you can be convicted of. Trust me on that one. It's a misdemeanor, obviously.

Also, I know I've mentioned Mallory carries a Tom Brown knife. The model I've got in mind is the Tom Brown T3 Tracker Knife and it's a sweet piece of work if you're into survival/camping, etc. Well worth the money and perfectly practical. If you've ever seen the Tommy Lee Jones and Benicio del Toro movie titled _The Hunted_, you'll have seen the T3. Also, Jones' character was based on Tom Brown.

**GAMEROLOGY**:

_**Tea-bag or Tea-bagging**_: After killing an opponent in game play (Halo games, especially), the 'victor' will stand on top of the defeated party's corpse and rapidly duck and stand, appearing to 'hump' them. This is an action often accompanied with the term 'pwn'. Mallory's comment, "I don't tea-bag, I camel-toe," references that, as a woman, she doesn't have 'tea-bags' and therefore must 'camel-toe' her opponent.


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTE**: Yeow, sorry this chapter took so long. It's been a crazy three weeks, let me tell you. Not all of it good and not all of it bad. Some of it very good and some of it purely obnoxious, but the next chapter should be a lot more fun to write. This is one of those chapters that just had to be written for more character interaction. I really didn't have any fun writing this one, especially on top of all the lame-o 'real-life' stress.

Also, I'm posting a companion piece titled _Mysterious Mallory_, so check that out. Chapter one takes place between chapters four and five of this story and I'll have prompts any time I add to it so you can follow along if you're interested.

Anyways, I'm not reading through this one again right now. I'm just going to post it 'cause I'm tired and I've got early morning plans. Hope you enjoy it, and I really hope to have chapter six, packed full of action and (hopefully) some dirty, raunchy smut up real soon. I've already got a good portion of it written, so it should come much easier. Thanks for sticking with me.

**SPOILERS**: Of course. Or not. No, not really.

**RATING**: Definitely mature with some pretty, pretty visuals. At least, I think so, but I'm dirty freak and I'm still being "tame" here.

**CHAPTER FIVE:**

It was Thursday and I hadn't seen or talked to Mallory since Monday. On Tuesday one of our high-end clients had a break-in and it had been nasty. Ranger had his A-Team, which included Bobby and me, working on-site security detail while Hector and Stephanie got to work improving our client's security system. It had been a long three days and I was pleased to be assigned skip duty. I preferred being on the streets.

Bobby and I were just accepting our body receipt when Mallory and Ice entered the building. Ice had his hands full, propelling a cursing, struggling, and obviously gang-affiliated man into the station by his cuffed hands. Mallory had her blank face on and Ice looked like he was barely containing a particularly violent urge, his brows drawn together in a frown and his jaw clenched.

Their skip was dressed in impossibly baggy jeans that were currently defying gravity, a white tank top that clung to his muscled torso and exposed the plethora of tattoos covering his arms, chest, and neck. I recognized some as Slayer stamps and caught Mallory's eye. She held up a finger in the classic 'wait' gesture and turned to the skip to grab a handful of his shirt so she could drag his face close to hers.

I couldn't hear what she said and from my position I couldn't read her lips, but whatever she told him had the gang banger turning an impressive shade of chalk and calming down immediately. Ice didn't have any further trouble leading the guy to the bench to sit while Mallory moved to the docket officer to collect their receipt. Robin was manning the counter and smiled warmly at Mallory who returned the grin with one of her barely-there smiles, chatting amiably while Robin filled out the receipt.

Finished, Mallory waited for Ice to collect his cuffs and then she crooked a finger at me and headed outside to the parking lot.

"What's up?" I asked her, letting my eyes slide suggestively from her shit-stomping knee-high boots to the unfathomable depths of her river-green eyes.

Mallory raised her brows and hooked her thumbs in her utility belt. "The usual," she returned, her voice all business, but I noticed her eyes dropping to linger on my lips for a moment before she returned them to my own.

"You know that guy is Slayer, right?" Bobby asked sounding concerned and I knew he was thinking about the trouble Stephanie had had with that particular gang not so long ago.

"Which is why he doesn't know our names or anything else about us," Ice answered, leaning back against Mallory's Pathfinder and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Good to know, because whoever that guy is, he could cause you trouble later, even from prison," Bobby told them.

"He's worth a grip," Mallory said. "Murder, dealing drugs and guns, and the robbery charge that led to the murder. TPD has a solid case, so he's going down."

I smiled at her. "Right on. You guys grab anyone else this week?"

"A few mids, but nothing special. We've got a few more to grab today." Mallory tipped her head at me slightly. "Was there something you wanted?"

I felt a little deflated. I'd thought that after that kiss on her porch she might be less distant, but it was obvious that, at the moment, Mallory was the job and in no mood to flirt. I sighed mentally.

"Just wanted to catch up for a moment. Bobby and I have some more skips we're supposed to be picking up, also."

"We'll let you get back to it then," Mallory replied, taking a step back toward the driver side door of her truck.

"You call Steph, yet?" I asked, wanting to keep her around a moment longer, at least.

"Tonight could be the night. I'll catch you later." She climbed into the Pathfinder and Ice nodded at us before sliding in beside her.

We watched them drive away and I turned to Bobby to find him watching me. "What?"

"Not exactly crawling all over you today, is she?" he said. "You better watch yourself."

I started toward the Explorer, pulling my keys out of my pocket. "It's not like we're dating."

"Do you want to date her?"

I paused mid-stride, considering his question. "I don't know. I have a hard time picturing Mallory as the kind of woman that dates."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Who the hell could keep up?" I replied, once more heading for the SUV.

"You could."

"I don't know, man. She's a fucking mystery and I can_not_ figure her out."

"No shit. If it weren't for the tattoos I'd be inclined to think she was ex-military."

"I wonder what the one on her back is of," I mused, starting the engine and backing out of our spot.

"You're going to have to get a lot closer than you just were to figure that one out."

I raised a brow at him. "Maybe that can be arranged."

Bobby let out a bark of laughter. "Good luck, man. Don't get shot."

I grimaced and pulled into traffic, heading in the direction of our next skip's last known residence. "I hate getting shot."

Bobby laughed again. "You're no fun at all."

#

"Mallory called."

I finished unbuckling my utility belt and hung it on one of the hooks that had appeared on the wall a few months back next to a bunch of belts already there. Bobby followed suit and we moved into the kitchen to find Stephanie and Ranger pulling out plates and filling wine glasses.

Stephanie had somehow managed to turn RangeMan into a family in the nine months she'd been with Ranger, including a number of the Merry Men in dinners on the seventh floor.

Tank, Woody and Cal, Zero and Manuel, Ram and Zip, Vince and Binkie, Junior and Hector, and Bones, who was Stephanie's usual partner now, were already in attendance, having beat Bobby and me upstairs. I could see them sprawled all over the living room, still in uniform but minus the gun-belts hung in the foyer and all of them in their socks. I saw their boots all heaped next to the couch on the floor and smiled slightly.

"When?" I asked, finally acknowledging Stephanie's statement.

"About an hour ago. She said she'd like to take me up on a night out. _Tomorrow_ night." She winked at me. "You up for a night of dancing?"

"You going?" I asked Ranger, who was currently uncorking a third bottle of wine to fill the glasses lined up on the counter.

Ranger put the wine bottle down and snagged Stephanie by a belt loop, dragging her up against his chest. Stephanie laughed delightedly and moved against Ranger like they were on a dance floor. "I wouldn't miss a chance to get her doing this to me in public," Ranger answered, his words for me but his eyes on Stephanie.

"Get a room," Bobby joked and snagged a beer out of the fridge.

"I'm in," I said, shooting Bobby a look that said I wanted a beer too. He grabbed me one.

"Wouldn't want to miss a chance to have Mallory doing this to you?" Stephanie said, moving against Ranger again and grinning when he lowered his lips to her ear, probably to whisper something dirty. I couldn't help being a little jealous. Stephanie was a helluva catch, and while we'd shared one close call months back, she was all Ranger's now. Really, she always had been.

"It's crossed my mind," I answered, taking a pull of my beer.

"Let's eat," Ranger said, releasing Stephanie and filling the last few glasses with wine.

We all grabbed a couple glasses and carried them to the living room to place them on the coffee table. Bones, Woody and Cal fetched the Ella-made dinner from the cart and placed the dishes on the table. Ella, in her infinite wisdom, had made us a Moroccan inspired meal that required little in the way of utensils and lots in the way of grabbing what you want with your hands and shoveling it into your mouth. I love Ella.

"So who all's coming out on Friday?" Bobby asked, loading his plate with a little of everything, batting Zero's hand out of the way of a piece of apricot-chicken and making it his own.

"Anyone that wants to," Stephanie answered, her eyes locked on the plate Ranger was filling for her. I laughed when she finger checked her chin for drool.

"I'm down," Bobby said around a mouthful of the apricot-chicken he'd won.

"What's going on?" Zero asked, still looking a little miffed about losing out to Bobby but I figured he'd recover once he took a bite of the spinach and chicken filled pastry dusted in powdered sugar he was getting ready to shove into his mouth.

"I invited Mallory out on the town and she called to take me up on it," Stephanie replied and took her now-loaded plate from Ranger, eyes wide with anticipation.

"Mallory?" Manuel interjected. "Count me in."

"Me, too," Woody added.

"You tell Lula yet?" Tank asked Stephanie.

"Yup. And she's all excited to show you the dress she bought today, so you'd better be there too."

Tank's face split into a grin. "Wouldn't miss it. I'm curious about this Mallory person, anyway."

"When did she get back in town?" This from Ranger.

"She told me she got back on Thursday, but I didn't hear from her until Monday."

Bobby snorted. "You didn't 'hear' from her at all." I jabbed him with a sharp elbow and he grunted.

"What's that mean?" Stephanie asked.

"It means we just drove by her place right before she showed up on Monday. With her partner."

"You met her partner, then?" Ranger asked.

"He's her brother," I answered. "They dragged in a Slayer today."

"So you saw her today too. What happened when you went to her place on Monday?"

"We didn't get shot and she invited us to dinner," Bobby said. "And then she and her brother schooled us on Xbox for a couple hours."

Hector looked up from his meal, raising a brow. "You got beat by a girl?" Hector had admitted to Stephanie that he spoke flawless English about six months earlier and it hadn't taken her long to make him part of the 'family' she was effortlessly turning us into. He was partners with Junior when he wasn't planning and installing security measures with Stephanie and no longer made any of us nervous. Stephanie was some sort of magic, no doubt.

"And her brother!" Bobby argued.

"He did get more kills than her, but I really don't think it would have mattered. They destroyed us. And then we played as a team online and devastated any and all that got in our way." I grinned at the memory, lifting a piece of minted-lamb to my mouth and taking a mouth-wateringly delicious bite.

"Her online name is Fuckin' Vicious, and it's no joke," Bobby said.

"I think I'm in love," Cal said on a sigh and Woody gave him a shot to the shoulder.

We continued to joke and laugh our way through dinner, occasionally shifting uncomfortably when Stephanie would take a break from the conversation to moan and sigh into her meal. Ranger looked ready to drag her to the bedroom at any moment, so we cleared out as soon as the last bit of food had been licked from the plates.

It had been a long day after our run-in with Mallory and Ice at the TPD and Bobby and I had spent the remainder of it attempting to collar a particularly nasty skip with a penchant for fire and accelerants. We'd managed to grab him at his girlfriend's house, but not before he tried to light our Explorer on fire, which Stephanie would have gotten a kick out of, and had then managed to actually blow flames at Bobby after taking a swig of Sailor Jerry's. The guy hadn't been in bad shape, either, and had made me chase him for five blocks before I caught him at a corner and slammed him face first into a wall, effectively ending the pursuit.

Bobby had bitched that his perfect eyebrows had been singed but had shut up when I told him we could call Stephanie and ask her what to do for burnt brows. Now I was just exhausted.

Opening up my apartment, I dropped my boots, which I hadn't bothered to put back on before leaving the seventh floor, and my gun belt on the floor, kicking the door shut behind me. I stripped on my way to the bathroom and stood under the hot water, trying to picture Mallory in a dance club, getting her groove on. I tried to think about what she might wear but all I could come up with were things I'd seen Stephanie wear on various distraction jobs. The thought of Mallory wearing one of Stephanie's skin-tight cocktail dresses had me instantly hard and the memory of her lips on mine, her hips rolling against me, and the little purring noises she'd made deep in her throat when I nipped at her neck came flooding back, causing me to groan.

I fisted my hand around the middle of my cock and pulled down to the base, tightening the skin over the head and shaft. In my mind it was Mallory's hand and I closed my eyes, leaning back against the shower wall, holding the tension for a moment before sliding my hand up over the head and then back down, tightening my grip slightly when my fingers passed over the ridge. I could practically taste her mouth against mine as I settled into the rhythm of each stroke. I thought about her soft lips sucking me off and was gone a moment later, spraying the glass door with a jerk.

"Fuck," I groaned, thumping my head back against the wall. Jesus Christ. I was no stranger to my right hand and hadn't been for over twenty years, but it was rarely that intense. If Mallory ever let me close enough I'd sure like to find out what the real thing was like.

#

Mallory sent me a text message the following afternoon and I thought I was going to drop my phone when I realized who the SMS was from. For some reason it seemed like a very un-Mallory things for her to do. I opened the message and felt a smile kick up one corner of my mouth.

'Coming?' it said and I could practically hear the suggestive tone she would have used if we'd been speaking in person.

'Do you dance?' I sent back, still smiling.

'Only one way to find out,' was her reply and I was instantly reminded of our night at Shorty's. That's what she'd said right before she kicked my ass at pool, and I could only hope that she was as good at dancing as she was at clearing a table.

We were all meeting at Rain at ten and I checked my watch to see that it was still only four in the afternoon. Six hours and counting. Bobby and I were on monitors today and I was impatiently waiting for the final hour of our shift to end so I could grab dinner and maybe take a quick nap.

A five am emergency call to our beleaguered client had dragged me out of bed that morning and I was exhausted. I didn't want to pass out at the bar and look like a jack ass, so a nap was sounding fucking awesome.

I glanced at my watch once more and texted Mallory back. 'Wouldn't miss it."

I half expected her to write back, but she didn't. I wasn't really surprised.

#

The nap was a fantastic idea. I was feeling fresh and I had to admit I looked damned good in my dark wash denim jeans, black leather motorcycle boots, and a black button down over a white t-shirt. Once more, I thought about what Mallory might be wearing out and had to forcefully bottle my immediate reaction so I could get out the door and to the garage without hurting myself.

The trip to Rain went quickly and I wasn't surprised to see that everyone that had met Mallory at Shorty's had decided to come, as well as all the guys that had come to dinner on the seventh floor the previous night.

Tank and Lula met us at the club, and I rode with Bobby in the back seat of Ranger's Cayenne with him and Stephanie up front. Stephanie was looking like a million bucks, as usual and I smirked at Bobby when Ranger's hand descended to her bare thigh and stayed there for the drive. I couldn't blame him. If she belonged to me and was wearing that tiny mini-skirt and v-backed tank I'd be feeling her up as much as possible, too.

Our little caravan pulled in to the parking lot and we all disembarked. A number of the guys had dates that they'd brought and I was searching the parking lot for the woman I wanted to be mine.

A moment later, Mallory's Mustang rumbled into the lot and parked a few stalls down from Ranger's Cayenne. Both doors opened and Mallory and Ice stepped out on the macadam. I didn't spare Ice another look as Mallory came into view looking like sex on legs.

She was clad in skin tight black jeans with spiraling zippers that wrapped around each of her long legs. She had a black satin motorcycle jacket on over a green, strapless top and her feet were clad in black, calf-high peep-toe boots with a four inch heel and strappy little buckle detailing. As she approached me, walking with that loose limbed gait that made her hips sway seductively in her fuck-me-heels, I saw that her toenails were painted blood red with black tips. Her eyes were done up in shades of green and smoke and her lips were glossy.

Eyes locked on mine, she headed directly for me, stopping less than a foot in front of me, her head tilted up and slightly to the side, a tiny smile playing over her lips. She looked me top to bottom and then back up and I watched amusement war with something fiery and hot in her green eyes.

"Lookin' good, Santos," she said.

I dipped my head closer to hers. "Not nearly as good as you, sexy," I growled. Her smile widened slightly. "What'll it take for you to stop calling me Santos and start calling me Lester?"

Mallory's eyes cooled slightly but her smile didn't falter. "I'll think about some possibilities," she answered, her voice cast low like mine.

Ice approached to stand at Mallory's back, warily eyeing my companions and I figured now was a good time to make some introductions. I shook hands with Ice in greeting, putting some space between Mallory and myself and he seemed to relax as I introduced the guys and let them introduce their dates.

Stephanie walked up to Mallory as I was finishing up and took Mallory's hand in both of her own. "I'm so glad you decided to take me up on a night out," she said warmly and I saw Mallory give Stephanie a genuine smile.

"I didn't realize you'd be bringing so many people with you," Mallory answered.

"I hope you don't mind?" Stephanie sounded like she was a little worried that Mallory would be overwhelmed by our presence as a group.

"No problem," Mallory assured her smoothly. "I'd like you to meet my brother and partner, Ice. Ice, this is Stephanie Plum and I'm assuming that you're Ranger." This was directed at Ranger who had come to stand at Stephanie's back for the introduction, placing a proprietary hand on her hip and drawing her against his chest. Stephanie leaned into him comfortably and tipped her head to look up at him from the corner of her eye, smiling.

Ranger held his hand out to Ice and the two men shook amiably.

"And we've never met," Mallory said and also held out her hand, shaking Ranger's firmly before letting go. I was impressed that she didn't do any of the goofy bullshit moves that most women tended to pull around Ranger, mumbling, stuttering, or generally making asses of themselves. The man was a chick magnet, but Mallory merely looked friendly and not flabbergasted.

"Good to meet you," Ranger said sincerely.

"Let's go in," Stephanie urged and we moved for the doors as a group, everyone chatting happily.

I positioned myself next to Mallory and offered her my arm as we crossed the lot. She shot me another amused look, but tucked her hand in the crook of my elbow anyway, her fingers curling gently into my skin. The night was humid and I'd opted not to wear a coat. Feeling Mallory's skin against mine was enough to heat me up even if it had been pouring down rain.

We entered the club and Mallory shrugged out of her jacket, giving me the best look at her back tattoo I'd seen yet. I could only see from her shoulder blades on up, but it was obvious that the tattoo was of a geisha in full regalia, a wide fan held in her left hand before her chest. Her face was turned in profile, looking downward and the backdrop was of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom, pink petals caught in an imaginary breeze, forever falling. The color and detailing were exquisite and I wished I could pull down the back of her shirt and see the rest of the artwork. I had a thing for inked women and just wondering what other tattoos were hidden by Mallory's clothes had me itching to strip her down and find every one.

Her hair was swept up off her neck, as usual, and held in place with a set of elaborate hair pins that were reminiscent of geisha styling. She had a large flower clipped just over and behind her right ear, the center decorated with a large spider with a skull for a body and painted to look like a sugar skull from _Dia de Los Muertos_. A Glock 26 was holstered at the small of her back, and should have looked incongruous with the rest of her outfit, but somehow she pulled it off.

Mallory handed her jacket and clutch to Ice who took it to the coat check, reaffirming in my mind that, despite the fact that he was much larger than her, Mallory was the leader of the two.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked, leaning in close and placing my hand on her back just above her gun.

She turned and smiled up at me, subtly shifting closer. "Absolutely."

I led Mallory to the bar and ordered us a couple shots of Jack Daniels and some Jager-bombs.

"No gloves tonight?" I commented as she lifted the shot of Jack toward her lips.

"I'm not the job right now. The gloves are mostly to cover the ink. It can be telling and I don't like to be identified by markers." She raised her brows and tipped the shot glass toward me, inviting me to toast the evening.

"To taking off the gloves," I offered, clinking our shots together and the smile she gave me could only be described as a leer. Honestly, I couldn't think of a single time I'd actually felt a woman's eyes on me like hands, but Mallory had a knack for conveying a lot of dirty thoughts into the smallest tilt of her lips and the slightest narrowing of her eyes.

I shoved down on the urge to rip all her clothes off and knocked back my shot in time with her. We both pounded out shots down on the counter and chased them with the Jager-bombs. Mallory didn't so much as flinch and I laughed.

"You drink like a pirate," I told her, summoning the bartender with a gesture and ordering us each a shot of Hennessy.

"Nothing 'like' about it. I am a pirate. Didn't you notice the tattoos?" She held out her hands for my examination. She wore a few rings, all of them very pirate-worthy, as well as the skull and crossbones tattooed on her left ring finger.

"I thought maybe you were married to a pirate."

A dark shadow seemed to cross her eyes at that comment but her expression didn't change, so I wasn't even sure if I'd really seen it. "No. I'm the pirate." Her voice was definitively final.

We knocked back our drinks and I pulled her to the dance floor. Mallory immediately pressed herself against me and proceeded to dance me into a lust-induced stupor, moving with a darkly sensual intensity and a blatant awareness of what she was doing to me. From her visibly pounding pulse hammering away in the hollow of her throat and the slight catch in her breathing every time I skimmed her breasts with my fingers or pressed my cock hard against the apex of her thighs I was far from the only one of us effected by our contact.

Years of training kept me aware enough of our surroundings to see that Stephanie was well on her way to getting dragged home by Ranger and the other guys all seemed to be having a helluva time. Lula was plastered to Tank and he was looking about as euphoric as I could ever remember and Ice was happily grinding a pretty, dark-haired woman in a slinky, backless black dress.

I was ready to burst out of my jeans when the music finally slacked off, receding into a cool down session.

"What are you trying to do to me?" I asked her, holding her against me with my hands on her hips as the dance floor cleared slightly.

Mallory leaned in close, her hands resting on my shoulders. Her mouth was right next to my ear, her warm, whiskey scented breath grazing my skin. "I'm not trying anything. Yet." Her lips brushed butterfly soft against my skin and I swallowed a groan as the moist tip of her tongue tasted me delicately.

"Mallory."

Ice's deep voice intruded on our tiny, private moment and I felt her stiffen against me before she turned to face him. She didn't break away from me, leaning back against me subtly as she met her brother's eyes, silently questioning him.

"Got a call. You good?" Ice slid his eyes to me and I sensed he was vaguely apologetic. He already had Mallory's jacket and clutch tucked under his arm, so it seemed obvious her leaving was already predetermined. I tightened my fingers slightly on her hips, reluctant to give in when things were finally starting to look interesting.

"I'm good," she confirmed and he took some non-verbal cue I didn't catch and left the dance floor, heading for the door. Mallory turned back around to face me and dragged the nail of her forefinger gently down the stubble on my jaw, her eyes hooded and dark. "I hate to cut and run," she murmured, her voice low. "But duty calls."

I growled out some affirmative noise laced with frustration. "I wanted you leaving with me."

Her lips tilted into a tiny smile and she rocked her hips against mine. "That would have been nice," she agreed. She lifted up on her toes and took my lips in a slow kiss, sliding her tongue against mine, cupping my jaw in her hand and molding her body to mine. I returned the kiss, pressing her firmly against me.

"We're going to do this," she assured me as the kiss finally tapered off, her lips moving against mine. "I promise you that." She took a final sharp nip at my lower lip and then she was gone, leaving me to watch her sexy, tight ass sashay in those painted-on pants right off the dance floor and out of sight.

#

**YO**: Just a note, Iserate is pronounced (in case you're wondering) Ice-er-ate. Pwned is pronounced like owned, but with the P noise at the beginning. Powned.

Again, sorry this chapter took so long. I hope it won't happen again, but no promises. I've got a busy couple of weeks ahead of me. Sorry guys. Don't worry, though. I will be finishing this story. I won't leave you hanging indefinitely and then never complete it. Thanks for your patience and continued interest.

**Definitions**: _Maybe you don't need this, but just in case..._

_**Grip: **_A large yet unspecified amount, usually pertaining to money, time, drugs, etc…


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE**: Some action! You'll have to read on to find out exactly what kinds.

Thanks again for all the awesome feedback. Sorry it's been taking me longer to get these chapters out, but I've got so much going on right now it's hard to find time. I'll probably be dropping back out of the FF game once this and _Mysterious Mallory_ are wrapped up, also. I've got my own book to work on and I'm ready to be a successful (paid) author. I'm really going to miss the instant feedback though...

**SPOILERS**: As usual, just consider it all spoiled. I'm not going to keep track of every reference to the actual books I make. Nope. Not gonna happen.

**RATING**: This chapter is all kinds of graphic. It's violent and it's sexual and it's still not quite as dirty as I am in real life, but we're getting close. Consider yourself warned. If this were a movie, you'd only be finding it in that little room at the back of the video store. You know, the one with the curtain and the _Adults Only_ sign next to it. I know you know the one. I saw you in there.

**CHAPTER SIX:**

I was just buckling on my utility belt when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it off the counter and checked the screen. Mallory. "Yo," I answered, holding the phone with my shoulder so I could check my gear.

"Can I borrow you?" Something in her voice immediately put me on edge. This wasn't sexual, obviously.

"What do you mean?" I asked, straightening and taking a hold of the phone.

"I need backup and you're the only one I trust."

What? "Where's Ice?" I couldn't imagine any scenario that would put Mallory in a position that she wanted my backup and not her brother's.

I hadn't talked to Mallory in over a week, the last time being when she'd taken off from Rain with Ice that steamy Friday night. Another Friday had come and gone and it was now the following Wednesday. I hadn't even bumped in to her at the TPD, but had heard that her and Ice had been clearing up bail jumpers for four prominent bonds companies in the city, including True Blue. With the heat on the rise, the crime rate was steadily climbing and Ranger had a team working skips twenty-four/seven to keep up with Vinnie's business. I hadn't even had time to wonder when I'd get to take Mallory up on her promise.

Mallory's answer broke me from my musing, reminding me that I was waiting for her reply. "Ice had pressing business. We've been hunting down this skip for two weeks and I just spotted him. I don't want to miss this chance, but I'm unwilling to take him alone." Her voice had taken on a hard edge and I could tell she was running out of patience. I needed to make a decision or get off the phone.

I moved out of my apartment and headed for the elevator. I didn't have any current assignments and had been planning on sitting monitor duty until Ranger or Tank pointed Bobby and me in another direction. "Is this guy going to be armed?" I questioned.

"Assume the worst. Can you back me up or not?" The edge I'd noticed before has turned her voice to ice, every word clipped and precise. I had a sudden revelation that what I was hearing was anger, and despite the fact that I'd thought I'd heard and seen Mallory angry before, this was something else. This was dangerous.

"I'm on my way. Where are you?" I punched the button for the fifth floor on the elevator and she gave me an address.

"Lester," she said, actually using my first name, and I went still, hearing the anger that I somehow knew wasn't directed at me still clipping her voice and something else beneath. "Hurry." And she disconnected. I stared at the phone for a moment and then stepped out onto the fifth floor, heading for Ranger's office.

Stephanie was already at her cube but I only raised my hand when she glanced my way. She shot me a quick smile, but her brows had pulled together in worry at my abrupt wave and I knew she sensed something was up. I was grateful that Stephanie would wait until I wasn't in a rush to ask me any questions.

I knocked on Ranger's door and stepped into his office at his short, "Enter."

Ranger looked up at me and raised a brow. "Santos."

"Mallory needs backup and requested my help," I said, falling into a habitual at-ease position, legs slightly spread and my hands clasped behind my back.

"What about her partner?"

"She said he's not available and the opportunity to bust her FTA just presented itself. I don't know much more." I hesitated. "She asked me to hurry."

"You're clear with me. Go ahead." Ranger turned back to his computer monitor and I left, once more thankful that the people I worked with understood need-to-know.

Stephanie caught my eye as I passed, making a call-me motion with her hand and I nodded before heading for the elevator.

Stepping off the elevator and into the garage, I hopped behind the wheel of my Explorer and punched in the address Mallory had given me on the GPS before heading out of the parking garage. I was about eleven minutes away but I cut the drive down to seven and pulled up behind Mallory's forest green Pathfinder while scanning the street we were on. We weren't far from Stark and the row houses lining either side of the street were in bad shape, often covered in graffiti and sporting plywood in place of windows.

Mallory stepped out of her Pathfinder and I followed suit. She nodded to me and reached into her truck to pull out a flak vest. I grabbed my own out of the Explorer and strapped myself in as Mallory shrugged out of her shoulder holster to do the same. She didn't address me until she had her holster back on.

"The skip's name is Leroy Benton. He was most recently arrested for assault and battery, assault of a minor, illegal concealed carry, a misdemeanor possession charge, and he's got a nasty history before that, mostly related to him beating his wife and son. The last time was bad enough that his wife got a restraining order, but the perp's mom bailed him out. He's been in the wind since his release and we've been waiting for him to show up, but there hasn't been any activity. I spotted him while I was pumping my gas and followed him here."

I think that's the most Mallory has ever said to me in one go. She appeared calm, double checking her gun and the rest of her gear. She wasn't wearing her shades and when she met my gaze I felt a shock course through me. The anger that had been in her voice was nothing compared to the frozen depths of hatred that shadowed her eyes. They were a bright, venomous green, the little orange flecks around her pupils burning like flames.

"Mallory-" I began, but she cut me off with a look.

"He's been in there with them for fifteen minutes," she said, her voice low and taut. "The last time he was here he almost killed his wife and the boy-" she stopped, her teeth snapping together, her jaw clenching hard. "You got your bluetooth?"

"Yes," I answered, choosing to take her lead on this at the moment. I pulled the little earpiece out of my pocket and clipped it to my ear. Mallory dialed my phone and clipped her own earpiece in place.

"We do this, right now," she said, and I got the double echo of her words over the bluetooth headset. She began crossing the street, heading for the row house on the end. "Take the back," she directed me and moved up the walk to the front door.

I jogged around to the back stoop and positioned myself to the side of the door, listening intently. I could hear a child crying inside and my heart twisted at the beaten, pitiful sobbing. Even as I listened I heard the crying begin to escalate, a note of terror entering the child's voice. Mallory's voice came over the line and I could hear her pounding on the front door.

"Leroy Benton, you are in violation of your bail. Open up."

The child's voice turned into a wail and I heard a sudden crash that must have been Mallory kicking in the door. I jumped into action, trying the knob but it was locked, so I kicked the door in and moved into the kitchen to see Mallory moving like a demon across the living room at the front of the house. The scene before me was momentarily frozen in a sort of diorama of violence and desperation.

Benton was holding a gun and looked like he'd been beating and terrorizing a boy that couldn't have been older than six. The child's arm was bent at an unnatural angle and he was sobbing, trying to scramble away from the man that was supposed to be his father.

Benton lifted his gun, pointing it at Mallory as she came through the door, gun drawn. She dodged and ducked under Benton's shot, took a running leap off the coffee table and came down on him in a kick I recognized as being a particularly difficult wushu move, her body spinning perpendicular to the floor and her booted foot lashing out to catch Benton on the collar bone as she descended. Benton hit the floor with a cry, his clavicle snapping audibly.

Mallory landed in a crouch and I realized she'd somehow managed to holster her weapon as she'd covered the distance between her and Benton. Benton was struggling, reaching for his gun with his good arm. A snarl ripped out of Mallory's mouth and she backfisted him across the face, knocking him to the floor.

It should have been enough, but she followed him down, nailing him in the cheekbone with a right cross.

"Mallory!" I barked, covering the distance between us, and she looked up, her face pulled into a feral grimace, her eyes windows into some inner hell that sucked all the heat out of me. She stood, swiftly drawing her gun and I knocked it upwards as she pulled the trigger to blow Benton's brains out. The bullet lodged in the wall instead and for a moment I thought she was going to fight me as our eyes locked and held, her breathing the adrenaline charged panting of the enraged.

Mallory seemed to come back to herself with a snap and her face went blank, her breath calming, but her eyes were still burning orbs, lashing me with their intensity.

"Cuff him," she gritted out from between her teeth and holstered her Glock before going to the child. The boy was curled against the wall, holding his broken arm against himself, shaking and pale.

I cuffed a hysterical Benton, threatening to break his other arm if he didn't shut the fuck up even as I watched Mallory carefully approach the child, her hand held out before her.

I shoved Benton down on the sofa. "Stay the fuck down, or I'll shoot you myself," I ordered him and waited for his ascent before going to the bullet hole Mallory had blasted in the wall to pry out the slug. No one got shot, so no reason to leave a mess.

Mallory was crouched down before the boy, her hands in clear sight, her movements smooth and non-threatening. "David?" she asked, and her voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the murderous snarl I'd heard her make before she'd cracked Benton across the face.

Little David Benton looked up into Mallory's face as she extended one gloved hand toward him.

"Hey, kiddo. My name's Mallory. Will you let me help you?"

"Are you going to take him away?" the boy sobbed, jerking his chin toward the restrained form of his father.

"Do you want us to take him away?" Mallory asked, still holding out her hand, her voice even.

David cut his eyes to mine. "No, I wanted you to kill him."

"Because he hurt you?" Mallory asked, commanding the boy's attention again, not moving in any way.

"No, because-" and here the boy's voice broke on a sob. "Because he killed my mommy!" he sobbed, shuddering, and then he threw himself at Mallory and she gathered him against her, swiftly standing with the boy wrapped in her arms.

Benton made to run and I might have been partially responsible for him tripping and crashing to the floor. I also may have "accidentally" kicked him in the head once he hit the floor, but as it silenced him for the moment I tried not to feel too guilty. Mallory looked at me over the boy's head, nodding toward the staircase that led to the second floor.

I headed upstairs and found the body of a woman with her clothes torn and multiple stab wounds on the bed in the master bedroom. Her eyes were wide open, her face frozen in a rictus of terror. She was obviously dead and I backed out of the room, careful not to touch anything.

Downstairs, Mallory had seated herself on the battered sofa, David cradled in her arms. She had her face pressed into his hair, her hand rubbing a gentle circle on his narrow back. I couldn't hear her voice, but I could see that she was whispering to him, rocking him gently in her lap. She looked up at me, still whispering, and that feeling that I was staring at some horrible, soul killing horror shivered down my spine once more.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the police, explaining the situation to the dispatcher. A few minutes later the place was crawling with uniforms. Morelli was among them and found me standing protectively over Mallory and David, directing the CSI unit upstairs.

Benton was just coming around when they hauled him out to an ambulance. He'd spend a day in the hospital, getting bandaged up, but then he'd be going to prison for a very long time.

Mallory stood, acknowledging Morelli with a nod, still holding the boy.

"He's got a broken arm, at least," she said, her voice low. I could see the tension around her eyes and mouth, like she was struggling to maintain her control. David had sobbed himself into exhaustion and was sleeping against her chest, his face pressed into her neck.

"Come with me," Morelli said to us both and we followed him out of the house. I'd offered to take David but Mallory had shaken her head, maintaining her grip on the boy.

Morelli led us to another waiting ambulance and Mallory carefully set the boy on a gurney. He whimpered and his eyes fluttered open, darting around until they landed on Mallory's face.

"I'm here, kiddo," she said, brushing his hair away from his face. He relaxed slightly and she gave him a small smile. "They're going to get you all fixed up. You're going to be okay."

"Where am I going?" he asked, his voice small and lost sounding and I saw a hint of that private hell flash across Mallory's features before she clamped down on it, summoning up her smile once more.

"To the hospital, honey." She looked up at Morelli as she spoke to the boy. "I'm coming with you."

Morelli nodded and David was loaded into the ambulance. Mallory turned to me. "Can you have someone get my truck out of here?" she asked, reaching into her pocket and fishing out her keys.

"No problem. Do you want me to have it delivered to your place?"

She tilted her head, considering. "No, just drop it off at True Blue and I'll pick it up as soon as I get the chance." She pulled the ignition key and the truck's key fob off her keychain and dropped the items into my hand.

"Do you need anything?" I asked, searching her eyes. She had her blank mask slammed into place so fast I practically heard a door slamming shut.

"No, thank you. I'll call if that changes." Which meant I might hear from her tomorrow or not at all.

I clasped her shoulder, squeezing gently and her mask slipped slightly. She looked like she was battling between the urge to shove me away or lean into me. Instead, she took a careful step back, slightly shrugging to show that she wanted me to let her go. I let my hand fall between us and she climbed into the ambulance, taking David's small, uninjured hand in both of hers.

The EMT pulled the doors closed and the ambulance motored away, leaving me with Morelli and a mess. I turned to face him, pulling my own blank mask into place and turning my focus from Mallory to the job at hand.

"Walk with me," Morelli invited, and it was an invitation and not an order out of professional courtesy. We strolled away from the bedlam that was taking over the sidewalk and yard, weaving through marked and unmarked cars. A domestic homicide warranted a lot of force.

"Start from the beginning," Morelli prompted once we'd gotten away from some of the noise.

I briefly mentioned Mallory's request for backup and my arrival on the scene and our subsequent entrance, noting David's crying from inside while I was around back. I carefully omitted Mallory's lapse and the shot she'd fired, but didn't forget to mention that Benton had opened fire on her and that she'd taken him down with a kick followed by the hand strikes. I told Morelli that David said Benton had killed his mother and that it had prompted me to check upstairs.

Morelli was silent for a moment, digesting the information I'd given him. "I don't think I'm going to have any questions for you. I trust your word and I'll grab a statement from Mallory later on. Do you have a number for her I could have?"

I figured this was one of those situations that warranted giving out Mallory's contact information and read off her phone number for him. He jotted it down in a notebook he'd pulled from his back pocket and gave me a grim smile.

"Thanks for your time, Santos. I'll let you know if anything comes up. Just fax a written copy of your statement to my office." He glanced back toward the row house and shook his head in exasperation when three news trucks pulled up simultaneously. "This is going to be a fucking circus," he growled and headed back into the mix, leaving me with a nod.

I was still strapped into my flak vest and all I wanted to do was get the hell out of it and the image of little David Benton and his mother's lifeless corpse out of my head. I'd been in combat situations in countries all over the world but seeing the same hateful atrocities enacted back home still turned my stomach and triggered a cold rage.

My thinking halted there for a moment as I pictured Mallory's face in the moment she'd drawn on Benton and her carefully controlled words and actions leading up to our entrance into the house. She'd been operating in a rage, reliving some past event that had, in some way, been similar to the one we'd experienced in the Benton house.

Picking over the past hour in my head, I returned to my Explorer and removed my vest, tossing it into the truck before pulling out my cell phone and requesting a pick up for my Explorer so I could take Mallory's Pathfinder to True Blue myself.

Hector and Junior showed up twenty minutes later. Junior took my keys and I turned the Explorer over to him before climbing into Mallory's Pathfinder. She was close to a foot shorter than me, but all her height was in her legs. I barely had to scoot her seat back at all to be comfortable before starting the engine and pulling away from the curb, weaving through the emergency personnel with Junior and Hector following behind.

They followed me to True Blue and I stood undecided, holding her keys in my hand. Now what? Lock them in the truck? Take them to Mallory in the hospital? That didn't seem like the best idea without checking first. I got the feeling Mallory didn't want anyone from RangeMan, me in particular, anywhere near her at the moment. I wondered if Ice was with her and hoped that he was. I opted for the easiest choice and dialed her cell number. It rang once and then went to voicemail.

I left a short message. "Mallory, let me know what to do with your keys." I disconnected.

We kicked rocks for five minutes before my phone rang. "Lock them in the glove box. I've got an extra set." Nice. No greeting. Straight to the point. She was nothing if not efficient.

"Do you need a pick-up?" I could be short, too.

"I'll handle it." She disconnected.

It really was like talking to one of the guys with her sometimes. That would be great if I didn't really want to talk to her. I was a hypocrite. I wanted to hear her say goodbye. Maybe say it back. I would never tell anyone that.

Snapping the phone shut, I did as Mallory asked, beeping the truck locked while the door was still open and putting the keys in the glove box before stepping back and shutting the door behind me. I got into my Explorer with Junior and we all headed back to RangeMan. I needed to get some lunch and decompress, maybe sit in front of the monitors with Bobby for a few hours.

I'd check on Mallory later, after I'd had a chance to think.

#

It was seven in the evening. I'd eaten dinner with Stephanie and Ranger on the seventh floor, filling them in on what had happened. I edited Mallory's nearly capping Benton out of the story as I'd done when I told it to Morelli. I wanted to find out what that was about, but not at the cost of airing Mallory's dirty laundry, even to two of the people I trust the most.

I excused myself after saying goodnight and headed directly for the garage. I'd already changed into blue jeans and a t-shirt before dinner, so I didn't have to stop off at my apartment. The drive to Mallory's place sped by and I was pulling up to her gate before I knew it.

Earlier, I'd attempted to get a hold of Mallory on her cell, but it had gone straight to voicemail every time. She must have turned it off and never turned it back on. As I nosed up to the gate it began to slide open, allowing me access. I figured Mallory had a camera watching the gate, but I couldn't spot it. I parked in front of the garage and climbed out of the Explorer.

Mallory was standing framed in the doorjamb, one shoulder leaning against the frame, arms folded over her chest. I came up the walk and climbed the three steps to the porch, crossing toward her until we were about four feet apart.

I didn't say anything as we studied each other. Mallory was barefoot and in a pair of battered Levi's that hung low on her hips and a black, ribbed tank. Her hair was fixed in a messy knot on the back of her head and her eyes were hooded.

Mallory's mouth twitched at one corner, like she was thinking of smiling. "I hope you're thirsty." She turned on her heel and I followed her through the front door, closing and locking it behind me before tailing her through the room that opened off to my right. It had been made into a library, the walls crowded with books, a small desk with a desktop computer and a shut laptop beside it. There were two comfortable looking arm chairs and a small end table between them, as well as a sound system. I could add 'likes to read' to my list of Mallory facts.

The far side of the library had another door that led directly to the kitchen. Mallory walked to the counter that doubled as a breakfast bar. There was a handle of Jack Daniels cracked open, only the neck of the bottle empty. She must have just opened it. She had two shot glasses side-by-side and acknowledged me with a glance before pulling a can of Coke out of the fridge. She popped the top and placed the Coke near the shot glasses.

I ambled up to her as she filled the shot glasses with whiskey. "Drinking alone?"

"Not anymore." She handed me a shot glass and tapped hers against mine before shooting it back. She made a slight face and took a swig of the Coke, offering me the can to chase my own shot with. I took it.

"What happened at the hospital?"

Mallory filled the shot glasses again as she spoke. "Kid was one big bruise on top of the broken arm. Couple fractured ribs. Nothing permanent physically. Turns out he's got an aunt. She was the one that encouraged the mother to get a restraining order and cut her losses with Benton. Too bad Benton didn't get the memo.

"This aunt has a couple other kids and it was immediately apparent that David trusted her. He'll be going home with her, and I think he'll be okay."

Some of the tension I'd been holding drained away. "I'll toast to that."

We did and knocked those shots back too.

"What about you?" She glanced at me and I tagged on, "You get your truck back?"

She relaxed some, filling the glasses yet again. Mallory seemed hell bent on getting smashed. "Morelli came and collected my statement at the hospital and then gave me a ride to True Blue."

"He give you anything else?" I asked, subtly teasing her.

One corner of Mallory's mouth twisted up. "Just _his_ number, since you'd given him mine."

"I figured it was warranted." She blank faced me for a moment and then her mouth went back to almost-smiling when I tensed.

"I'm fucking with you. It's fine." She turned back to the shot glasses, momentarily contemplating the amber liquid.

"You gonna call him?" I didn't want to sound jealous, merely curious, and I'm reasonably certain I pulled it off, but I was hoping she'd say she already had her eye on someone. Me, namely.

"It could happen," she returned noncommittally. I supposed I'd have to accept that as good enough at this point. I figured I definitely had a head-start on Morelli, and I was alone with Mallory in her home, drinking whiskey. There was potential for a decent finish if I could keep from pissing her off.

Music was filtering in from the great room, something heavy and loaded with technical guitar riffs that I didn't recognize. Mallory nudged my shot glass toward me, already holding hers in her hand.

"Where's Ice?" I asked, lifting the shot.

"He had some business to attend to. He'll be back in a day or two." She knocked back her shot and I followed suit, placing my shot glass next to hers.

So he hadn't been with her at the hospital either. She'd handled the situation on her own. She didn't _seem_ to be hung up in any way, but the bottle of whiskey refuted that. Today had definitely gotten to her and she'd spent the rest of the day in a hospital dealing with the aftermath. Alone.

"How 'bout a Jack and Coke?" Mallory asked, diverting my thoughts.

"Sure."

Mallory busied herself mixing the drinks and I wandered to the built-in in the breakfast nook, admiring the myriad of teapots and teacups that lined the shelves. There were all kinds, recalling everything from classic English styles to Chinese and Japanese renditions. I noted a few Yixing clay teapots, one in the shape of a dragon, another formed like a lotus blossom, and another that seemed to have a handle formed of a bonsai tree.

"I'm guessing you like tea," I commented when Mallory brought me my drink.

"Caught me. I've got a whole cupboard full of tea. I drink it in bulk. Obviously, I'm fond of the apparatus that accompanies tea drinking, also." She gestured toward the teapots and cups with her glass.

"I figured you as more of a coffee person."

"I'm both. In the morning it's always coffee unless I space out and forget to buy coffee or creamer. Then I'll settle for tea."

I gave her a smile and her gaze dipped to my lips before slowly returning to my own, her own mouth curving into the first real smile I'd seen her wear since I'd arrived.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"Originally, it was just to drink myself into a stupor, but maybe I'll hang around mentally to keep you company, since you're here."

"As long as you're a friendly drunk." I took a swallow of my drink and had to bite back a grimace. Damn. That was a strong fucking drink.

Mallory smirked at my expression and downed a large mouthful of her own drink. "I can be friendly," she said, her tone just barely suggestive of another meaning. "Let me show you Hostess Mallory. Would you like a tour of the house?"

I liked the way she affected a subtle butler-esque quality to her invitation and decided to play along. "By all means. Please, lead the way." I gestured grandly toward the great room, dipping my head slightly and Mallory's smirk turned into an actual smile.

I hadn't taken much time to inspect Mallory's great room when I'd last been in her house. I'd been busy having my ass handed to me. The space was soothing and had a vaguely Zen vibe without being overpowering. The furniture was done predominantly in earth tones and dark wood with simple lines. A few jewel toned pillows and a throw draped over the end of the couch added splashes of color, and on closer inspection I noticed that she actually had a number of eclectic art pieces on her walls as well as a pretty extensive collection of Chinese and Japanese antiques and figurines.

The massive television was mounted on the wall opposite the kitchen, the majority of the furniture grouped around it. The back wall housed a gas fireplace also used as a focal point for two loveseats and a recliner, a narrow coffee table placed between the seating and the fireplace itself. On either side of the fireplace were French doors that opened onto the deck. Mallory led me through the great room and into a short hallway that connected two guest rooms separated by a full-bath. Both bedrooms were furnished with full-sized beds, a desk and chair, and a small entertainment center with flat-screen televisions. Spartan but comfortable.

Drinks in hand, we headed back through the great room and Mallory pushed open one of the doors beside the fireplace and stepped out onto the deck. The portion directly off the house was covered so the deck could be enjoyed even in foul weather, the roof generously opened up with skylights. To the right was an outdoor kitchen with grill, fire-oven, sinks, and an island bordered on one side with bar stools. I walked over to the island and saw that the underneath was a locked liquor cabinet and it was pretty heavily stocked already.

"You do a lot of entertaining?" I asked, setting my glass on the island and watching Mallory step to the edge of the covered area, staring out at the dark, her head slightly tipped back.

"There was a time." She turned toward me, her mouth curved in a wry smile. "Not so much these days."

The deck was populated with various outdoor furniture groupings, looking ready to accommodate a fairly large group of people ready to party. I'd seen Mallory relax, at least a little, a few times now. Two of those times had been in the presence of a decent crowd, but I still had a hard time picturing her inviting a crowd to her house to lounge around on the deck, eating barbeque and drinking cocktails. Had she been different once? With nothing to compare my version of Mallory against, it was hard to say. Maybe I could invite Ice out for a beer and try to wheedle some information out of him. There was a steadiness to Ice that made him seem less volatile than Mallory. I hoped that meant my prying would be less likely to get me shot if I ever got around to talking to him alone.

Mallory led me away from the outdoor kitchen and into the open. It looked like we were directly in front of the master suite, but the wall of windows that would have looked into the room were blocked by Venetian blinds. The blinds didn't stop me from noticing the massive hot tub set into the deck directly in front of the French doors that led to her room, however.

"What is this? A twelve-seater?" I asked, mentally calculating the tub's size.

"Fourteen," Mallory corrected. "I didn't even have to install this thing. It came with the house." She knelt down and pressed a button set into the deck and the cover over the tub began to retract while steam billowed out of the heated water. "It's got a lap setting," she continued, trailing her fingers through the warm water. "All the jets blast away on one side and you can swim against the current."

Ranger had recently installed three new lap pools in the RangeMan building, so I was familiar with the concept but I had never seen a lap pool combined with a hot tub. Great idea. Getting Mallory naked and in the hot tub with me seemed like an even better one, but I was enjoying the tour and the little scraps of information I was learning about Mallory in the process.

I wished she was more relaxed, but I could see that a current of tension was still humming through her. It seemed likely that the confrontation earlier was at least partly responsible for Mallory's mood, but she didn't strike me as the kind of woman to get easily rattled, even by something as disturbing as we'd seen today. The incident with Benton had definitely triggered memories of a past Mallory was reluctant to share with me. Probably with anyone. I looked down at my glass and found it empty. Mallory caught me eyeballing it and looked to her own glass, which was also empty.

"Refills," Mallory stated and entered the kitchen through a side door that led into the breakfast nook. I followed slowly, curious about the building off the end of the deck. It looked very similar to a Shinto shrine, but I couldn't tell what the interior looked like with all the doors firmly closed.

I handed Mallory my glass and she quickly mixed up another Jack and Coke for both of us and then poured out two more shots. She eyed the shots for a moment and then gave me a sly look before pulling down two more shot glasses and filling those as well.

"Back-to-back." She waggled her brows at me once.

"Sounds kinky," I replied and came around to her side of the counter.

"You have no idea." She handed me one of the shots.

We lifted our shots in a silent toast and knocked them back, slammed the glasses on the counter, and then knocked back the next pair. I was feeling pretty fucking buzzed. Mallory was looking collected, but there was a definite flush to her high cheekbones and her lips were moist from the whiskey and turned up at one corner in a satisfied little smirk. Suddenly, all I could think about was how amazing whiskey would taste on her lips.

In the next instant I had her against me, my thigh between her legs, my arms wrapped tightly around her back. Mallory's hands had come up to my shoulders when I'd grabbed her, but she didn't push me away. Her body molded to mine and her arms encircled my neck, her green eyes bright and fixed on mine. Her gaze dipped to my mouth and the tip of her tongue came out to lick her lip.

"Let me," I growled and dipped my head, claiming her mouth with mine, sliding my tongue along her lower lip to taste the whiskey there. Jesus Christ, I was about to bust my fucking Levi's. If you could bottle and sell what I tasted on Mallory's mouth you'd be the richest bastard on the planet. I groaned and thrust my tongue between her lips and she met me halfway, her hands sliding up my neck to grip the back of my head and hold my mouth to hers.

Her hips rolled against my thigh and I couldn't suppress the shudder of pleasure that passed through me and into her. She made this delicious little gasping noise against my mouth and I lifted her onto the counter. Even with the high granite countertops I was tall enough to wedge myself between her thighs and bring her heat right against my cock. Her mouth was still locked to mine and she wrapped her legs around my waist, grinding herself against me. I tightened my arm around her waist and slid my free hand under her tank to find her breast and rolled the taut nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

Mallory arched hard against my hand, gasping and exposing the long line of her throat. I lightly sank my teeth into the tender flesh where her neck and shoulder met and she shuddered against me, moaning as I continued to fondle her nipple, rocking my dick against her. I shifted my grip so I could slide my hand into her hair, grabbing the elastic that held it bound and pulling it free. Her hair tumbled down to her waist in thick waves, gleaming in shades of russet and dark brown, and smelling of gardenias. It was longer than I'd thought and I tangled my fingers in it, dragging her mouth back to mine.

"I want to be in you," I rasped against her lips.

"My room," she answered, panting. "Now."

I lifted her, refusing to break contact with her even to let her walk and carried her though the doorway into the short connecting hall beyond. I turned left in the hall and opened the door at the end, stepping into Mallory's bedroom. A king sized bed was against the right hand wall covered in a midnight blue duvet.

I placed Mallory on her feet at the edge of the bed and her hands immediately went to the hem of my shirt, dragging it up over my head. I helped her along and she went perfectly still as I dropped the shirt to the floor. Her hands moved slowly against my chest and I shut my eyes for a moment at the feel of her hands on my bare skin. When I opened them again Mallory was staring at my bared torso with obvious appreciation and I can't deny it didn't stroke my ego. I put a lot of hours into keeping fit. I have to be in top physical condition for my job, but the side benefit was having a woman like Mallory go breathless at the sight of me with my shirt off.

Her hands were tracing the ridges of my abdomen, her nails lightly scratching the skin, sending little sizzles of heat through me. "See something you like?" I asked her and gripped the hem of her tank in my hands, pulling her against me at the same time.

Her eyes fixed on me and she gave me a very dirty grin as she dragged the tip of her tongue along her upper lip. I fixated on the movement, almost forgetting that I'd been about to whip her shirt off. "Something I like?" She lightly dragged her nails from my shoulders down my chest and then back up. "Oh, yeah. Something I want?" Mallory leaned in and lapped at the hollow of my throat before pressing her lips there, sucking and then nipping me gently. "Absolutely. Something I'm going to put my hands and mouth all over?" she continued, her lips still against my skin. "Hell, yes."

I suddenly remembered my earlier mission and had her shirt off in under two seconds and her ass on the edge of the bed a mere second after that. I arched her back over my arm and fixed my mouth on her breast, desperate to taste her the way she'd said she wanted to taste me. My blood was hammering in my veins and I was so hard I could swear I heard the seams of my jeans creaking.

Mallory dragged my mouth back up to hers with her hands cupping the sides of my face. Once she had her lips against mine her hands moved down between us and she gripped my belt buckle, her fingers moving deftly to release it so she could swiftly undo my fly. I'd never been so fucking happy I was wearing my motorcycle boots in my life as I toed them off, rapidly moving my hands to Mallory's waistband so I could unbutton her jeans.

Then our pants were out of the way, my skin tight black boxer briefs and Mallory's miniscule pair of black lace hipsters removed in the process. I yanked the covers back on the bed and Mallory sat on the edge of the mattress once more and scooted slowly up the sheets towards the pillows. I followed after her, discarding my socks as I climbed up onto the bed.

Mallory swept some of the pillows to the floor and then laid back against the remainder. I placed my lips against her ankle and began kissing my way up her leg. She rested the sole of her other foot on my shoulder and slid it down my back as I made my way past her knee, taking a long moment to tease the back of her knee with my tongue, drawing more of those little gasping moans from her lips.

I was zoning in on my goal and I trailed my tongue the last few inches to finally get a taste. Mallory bent like a bow when my tongue plunged into her, finding her dripping wet. I curled my tongue up against her pelvic bone and she groaned aloud, her fists clutching at the sheets near her hips.

The sounds she made as I worked her with my mouth drove me on. I dragged my tongue up her slit until I found the hard little nub at the top. Mallory writhed as I set myself to sucking, nipping, and licking her clit. When I eased two fingers deep inside of her she clamped down on them so hard I almost lost it and caved to my baser impulse to just fuck her and find my own release. She was so tight, and when I began working her at a steady rhythm I swore I was going to lose circulation.

Mallory was arched off the mattress, her legs over my shoulders. My mouth was fixed to her pussy, driving her toward the edge, my fingers urging her on. I moved my hips so the head of my cock was sliding back and forth against the smooth expanse of the cotton bed sheets, teasing myself even as I brought Mallory to climax. A fine tremor was vibrating her like a plucked guitar string and then she came with a cry, clutching the back of my head as I continued to lick her cunt, prolonging her release until she tugged me toward her.

Her arms circled my neck as I settled myself between her thighs and pressed myself against her tight opening.

"I've been dreaming about this," I admitted, rocking my hips and giving her just the tip.

"Dreams _do_ come true," she replied, her voice low and seductive yet threaded with amusement.

I flashed her a grin and pressed a little deeper, holding myself tightly under control, wanting so badly to just thrust hard and deep inside of her and end the delicious torture.

Mallory groaned and wrapped her legs around my waist, urging me closer, arching her hips and forcing me deeper. Now I was the one groaning. She thrust upward and I felt her clench tight around me, her brilliant green eyes focused and intense on mine, lips parted, teeth together.

"More," she growled and somehow clenched even tighter.

I'm only human. Caving, I rammed myself deep inside of her, feeling her stretch and adjust to my size, hearing her cry of pleasure mixed with mine as I filled her, our hips flush. I covered her mouth with mine as I wrapped my arms around her back, tangling my hands in the silky waves and curls of her hair and slowly withdrew from her heat before driving myself back.

Her mouth was magic, her hands holding me against her, the wet heat of her body demanding more of mine. I couldn't deny her and I began thrusting in long, smooth strokes, angling each stroke to hit her G-spot. I could feel the tension building in her and I pulled my mouth away from hers so I could watch her expression as she came undone.

Mallory's face was a mask of pleasure, her eyes hooded, lips moist and parted, her breath panting across them to warm my face. She was beautiful and untamed, meeting every thrust, her fingers alternately kneading and scratching my back. She was clenching down on me, our gazes locked together.

"You gonna come for me?" I rasped and nipped at her lower lip, thrusting a little harder, going a little deeper, drawing another gasp from her. I put a hand between us, found her clit with the pad of my thumb and began to move it back and forth over the sensitive little nub. A tremor shook her and I growled as she suddenly broke around me, arching upward, her inner walls clenching tight as a fist around my cock, her legs right around my waist, a cry on her lips as a powerful orgasm shook her.

I was close but unwilling to end it now. I _was_ willing to spend all night coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of Mallory's perfect body. "Again," I urged, still thrusting, still stroking my thumb against her. Mallory bit her lip and bucked against me, her mouth parted in a silent cry of pleasure, her eyes dilated so far as to almost drown out the green of her irises.

"C'mon, baby. Come for me. I love feeling you clench tight around me." I thrust deep and held myself inside of her, letting her feel me pulsing inside of her, rocking my hips so I was nudging her cervix, flicking my thumb over her clit.

She grabbed my wrist, holding my hand against her, and I twisted away from her grasp so I could grab her in turn, guiding her hand between us.

"You do it," I instructed. "You know how you like it." God, I wanted her to touch herself while I filled her. I wanted to see how she liked it so I could do it to her myself again and again. I was planning on making her come in a million different ways. With my hands. My mouth. My cock. I had plans to spend hours in this bed and my objective meant keeping her in it with me until neither of us could go on and had to break for food or water or sleep.

Mallory's a dirty girl and she got right to it, holding my gaze with her own as she began stroking herself, spreading herself open with two fingers while she met each thrust.

"Come with me," she commanded. The nails of her left hand dug slightly into the back of my neck, a tiny stinging pain in contrast to the pleasure of being buried inside of her, thrusting harder. I felt myself swell at her words and knew I wouldn't be able to do anything else.

It didn't matter. There was no doubt in my mind that I could come in this moment and be ready to go again right after.

I grinned wolfishly and her eyes sparkled, her lips drawing up into the slightly crooked grin I'd only seen a few times before, that little dimple appearing just below the left corner of her mouth. Here was a chance I couldn't pass up.

I bent my head and flicked my tongue against that dimple, tasting the salt of her skin, getting a whiff of the dark, sensual perfume she was wearing. I pressed my lips against that dimple.

"Tell me when," I growled, shifting my lips to her mouth, feeling her tongue slide against my lower lip.

"Now," she gasped against me. "Now!"

She clenched around my cock and I loosed my control, surging forward, pounding into her once, twice more before giving in to my own release, feeling hers echoing mine, each of us driving the other further, higher. Stars exploded and I swear I felt my heart shudder to a stop before it jumped back into a pounding rhythm that matched the shuddering of my body lodged deep in hers.

Mallory's arms wrapped around me, pulling me down against her and I sank into her, feeling her breasts plumped against my chest and her ragged breath against my ear. The thundering of her heart matched mine.

"God damn," she whispered, her voice awed as another tremor passed through her, causing her to arch and whimper against me, drawing a groan from my own chest.

"God god damn," I agreed, my breathing shuddering through my lungs. I pressed my face into her neck, nipping and kissing her gently, still rocking my hips against hers, unable to stop myself despite the shattering climax I'd just experienced.

No way was that going to be enough. There was so much more I wanted to do with her. To her. I had a vague feeling that I wouldn't ever be able to get enough of her and something that felt like a stone settled somewhere in my chest for a moment before I pushed the sensation away, deciding only to take this moment and the next as it came and worry about any other possible consequences later.

Like after I'd fucked Mallory into a sleep deprived coma and myself along with her. I was almost completely hard again already and it hadn't even been five minutes. I pulled out slightly and thrust back into her, earning a pleased gasp and I sucked on her neck, not caring that I was probably going to leave a purple mark on her smooth skin. I wanted to mark her, leave something behind she could see when she looked in the mirror later and remind her what she'd been doing, and who'd been doing it to her.

I started thrusting in earnest, sucking, nipping, reveling in the feel of her body immediately moving against mine again, clenching around me. She was still sensitive and I drove another climax out of her in moments, feeling her tip over the edge as I tugged on her earlobe with my teeth.

"Again," she moaned, dragging her fingernails down my back to clutch my ass and urge me harder, faster, deeper.

"Again, and again, and again," I confirmed and got to work on my plan.

#

**YO**: For the sake of fiction and all its perfect awesomeness, my universe has no STD's and everyone is on foolproof birth control, so my characters need not worry about diseases or unwanted pregnancies. That said...

What did you think? I've never narrated a sex scene from first-person before, although I have written many third-person ones from a man's perspective. Kinda fun to imagine what it's like from the guy's angle... Heh, angle.

Any ideas on what Mallory's big secret past is about? There were definitely some hints... Not sure when I'll reveal the whole thing, but there's going to be more unraveling to come.

And best part? I have no idea where this is going. Nope. Not a clue. But I guarantee everyone will walk away happy and smiling. I mean, the characters. I can't guarantee you're going to like any of this, but I hope you do.

Oh, and there will be new chapter of _Mysterious Mallory_ very soon.

**GLOSSARY**:

Handle - A 1.75 liter (half-gallon) of alcohol.


End file.
